


See Through

by alixinsanity (orphan_account)



Series: Oculos Amor [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Anal Sex, Angst, Art, Art Teacher, Awkward Conversations, Familial Abuse, First Time, High School, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Out of Character, POV Derek, Painting, Phone Sex, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Violence, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 22:28:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 49
Words: 71,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/alixinsanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fire that killed the majority of his family, Derek was put under the care of his uncle Peter. Years later, he returns to face the past, working as an art teacher at Beacon Hills High School, where on his first day a student named Stiles comes stumbling into his class. Something about the kid calls to Derek. Stiles begins to help save Derek from himself and the thing that's been torturing him for years.</p><p>ABANDONED</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> This was an idea that I thought up, and I really wanted to give it a try because it seemed interesting to me. I will apologize in advance, characters will be very out of character, especially Derek.  
> I hope you enjoy :)

Sitting in his car, Derek stared at the familiar building of Beacon Hills High School. The familiarity of the red brick walls, made him sigh as he remembered the years he had spent there as a student; he had never expected after what he went through as a student there, that he would return as a teacher. Grabbing his bag off the seat, he let out an exaggerated sigh as he forced himself to get off out of the car and face whatever lay inside the school. The chill in the September air hit him as soon as he stepped out, slamming the door behind him to stop himself from jumping back into its relative safety. 

“Hey dude! Nice car!” Spinning around to the voice, Derek glanced at the black Camaro resisting the urge to lay a protective hand on the metal, before smirking at the stereotypical jock student before retorting, “Get the grades and one day you might be able to afford one.” The expression that fell on the students face made Derek chuckle as he swung his work bag onto his shoulder before strutting towards the front door. He knew that he probably still looked young enough to pass as a senior; he was after all only fresh out of college. His uncle had come up to him at his graduation and instead of congratulating him, had told him that he had to go back to Beacon Hills for business. Derek was expected to follow him back there, a show of remaining family sticking together after the fire seven years ago that had killed the rest of their family and destroyed their home. Having been only sixteen at the time of the fire, he had been put under his uncle’s care alongside his older sister; the three of them were the only people in the entire family who survived. 

Shaking his head at the memories that had filled his mind, Derek walked through the crowds of students that had apparently congregated in the halls earlier than usual due to it being the first day back after summer. Walking into the classroom which he had been introduced to the previous day, he revelled in the smell of paint that constantly lingered in the art classroom and the stack of easels that took up a large space in the corner besides his desk. He loved being in the art studio back in his own high school days, the lack of tables and seats in the rooms made it impossible for him to hide in the back corner like he had done in the rest of his classes. The freedom that came with the lack of structure had encouraged him to explore himself in painting, and had become his life ever since. Dumping his bag onto the desk, the only table in the entire room, Derek looked out the window momentarily checking his appearance in the slight reflection. The tight-fitted t-shirt and the pair of worn out, paint covered jeans stood out from the rest of the teachers at the school who instead wore suits and formal clothing trying to create superiority and authority with the way they dressed. Derek didn’t want to place himself above his students, he wanted to treat them like equals in a way that none of his teachers had ever done to him at this school. All he ever received from the teachers were sympathetic looks, which occasionally turned to dirty looks when he would turn up to school covered in bruises. They had presumed that he had become a tyrant after his family’s deaths, picking fights that he probably couldn’t win. No one had asked about it, instead they shook their heads and offered for him to visit the guidance counsellor; he did but he refused to speak, so eventually they gave up trying. 

Shaking his head again, Derek stepped away from the window instead moving over to sit cross-legged on top of his desk, a habit he had picked up in college. He knew he still had about twenty minutes until the students in his first class stopped socializing and catching up with friends in the hallways of the school, growling in boredom he began to fiddle with one of the lighters he always had on his person; patience was never one of his strong points. Ever since the fire that had made him loose both of his parents, and so many others, he had become obsessed with lighters, and fascinated at the sight of flames. His sister had known about his sudden interest, accepting it believing that it was merely her brother’s way of coping with the tragedy. His uncle however had caught him staring at the small flame once just after the incident and had snapped, the memory of his uncle manhandling the lighter out of his grasp, threatening to leave a burn on Derek’s face that would have been so similar to the one that plagued Peter’s, still caused Derek to wake up in cold sweats. 

“Hey dude, we’re not meant to have lighters in school. We’re not meant to be messing around with them either, well obviously we’re not meant to as we’re not meant to have them in the first place.” Looking up, Derek saw the person who had spoken, hovering in the doorway. He slowly took in the short buzz-cut style hair-cut that strangely suited the teen, the slight twitch as if the kid wanted to quickly get somewhere else before the bell went signalling first lesson. Smirking at the kid, flipping the lighter closed, “Thanks for letting me know, I wouldn’t want to get caught breaking a rule on the first day.” Derek smiled and watched as the kid nodded running away from the door frame before backtracking at the same speed, “You probably should move off the desk too, this is Mr Rigley’s room and he’s a real grouch. Students aren’t meant to sit at the teacher’s desk; I presume that’s the same for sitting on the teacher’s desk. ” Resisting the urge to laugh at the kid still hovering in the door frame, Derek smiled, “Thanks for the tip.” As the kid ran back off in the direction that he had come from, Derek let out the laugh that he had suppressed throughout the little encounter. 

Derek was surprised when he heard the bell go, not expecting the sudden burst of noise. Jumping off the desk, he watched as the small wave of students grudgingly came through the door. He had looked at the register and he knew the number of students that he was expecting in the class; he had every intention of waiting till the class was nearly at full capacity before closing the door and making them realize that he was the teacher. He shifted uncomfortably as he spotted the predatory looks on a few of the female student’s faces, he desperately hoped that they disappeared when they figured out that he wasn’t just a new student and was in fact their teacher. His slight discomfort disappeared when he saw the kid from earlier practically run into the room; Derek couldn’t help but to smirk at the kid’s level of hyperactivity. The kid returned the stare, before essentially hopping over to where he stood. “I see you took the tip about sitting on the desk then, I’m Stiles by the way, gonna just introduce myself before you drift over to the popular people, I see Lydia’s already eyeing you up, and I mean why wouldn’t she, you look…I mean uh hi.” Derek smiled at the kid, amused at the way ‘Stiles’ obviously didn’t know when to stop talking and that the smaller guy thought he was a new student in the class, “Hello Stiles, don’t worry I’m not going to ‘drift over to the popular kids’, would you just excuse me a second though?” Derek asked waiting for the kid to nod, before walking over to the door, closing it behind the last student, having been keeping a headcount throughout the conversation he had been having with the kid. The class had turned to stare at what they presumed to be the bold new student, taking this as his cue, Derek announced to the class, “Ok guys, my name is Mr Hale and I will be teaching you Art this year.” Looking around at the stunned students, he found his eyes immediately drawn to Stiles who stood with his eyes closed, muttering to himself shaking his head slightly as if to get rid of a thought that was stuck in there. The sight made Derek’s heart jolt slightly, causing confusion to immediately spread through his body and the smile on his face to slip into a slight frown.


	2. One of Those Days

Ignoring the odd twinge in his chest, Derek moved back over to his desk resuming to sit cross-legged on it once again. Rubbing his hands together slightly, smirking mischievously at the looks of confusion and shock that were spread across the students faces, Derek explained, “Now, I know a few of you expected to be taught by Mr Rigley, however he decided to take an early retirement and I was lucky enough to get his old job.” His eyes once again shifted over to where Stiles was standing, the teen still shaking his head slightly, but this time in obvious disbelief that Derek was in fact the teacher and not a student. Derek couldn’t help but to scan the kid up and down, his eyes dwindling on the awkward stance, the slight twitch in the corner of the teen’s mouth as well as the way Stiles smiled slightly when he realized that he was being stared at. Shaking his head slightly, Derek turned to glance around the rest of the class before picking up the register which he had removed from his bag just before the bell. “Okay I will try to remember all your names but if I forget I will just call you Steve,” encouraged by the soft laughs that echoed around the room he began to trail through the list of names on the sheet of paper, smiling and looking at every student as they answered their names. Looking at the list of names, Derek frowned slightly at one of the names near the bottom of the sheet, glancing around the room as he inquired, “Ok. G- Gen…Geni-”

“Stiles is fine thanks!” The teen nearly fell forwards into the front of the desk, as if the kid had just stopped himself from either grabbing the register from Derek’s hand or stopped himself from physically stopping Derek continuing with trying to pronounce the name. Derek frowned slightly as the class erupted into a taunting laughter which was clearly aimed at the kid, before continuing with a kind smile at the embarrassed teen, “Okay, Stiles Stilinski.” Another wave of laughter filled the room, less malicious than the previous one; the slight blush that covered Stiles face called out an interest in Derek, one which sparked another round of confusion that spread through his mind.  
Continuing with the register, he trailed off the last name before stating, “So, you have this single lesson today and you have a double lesson tomorrow afternoon. In this subject you are expected to learn both practical and art history, therefore I have decided to teach you the art history side of things in this shorter session.” Grabbing his laptop out of his bag, Derek jumped off of the desk to allow room for the computer, hitting the power button before beginning a scramble with wires and a projector that was attached to the ceiling. Sighing in relief when the projection of his log-on screen turned up on the wall, he keyed in his password quickly smiling gently when his desktop background became visible to the entire room. “Is that your girlfriend Mr Hale?” Derek looked over at the girl who had asked the question, glancing between her and the blown up projection of his computer screen; the desktop background clearly showing him and a pretty brunette embracing and smiling at the camera. Chuckling, “No, that’s not my girlfriend. That’s my sister Laura.” Derek glanced around the class, noting how a few girls let out sighs of relief, shaking his head as he heard a few commenting on his possible relationship status; the reaction that stood out most to him was the way that Stiles visibly sighed and relaxed, a look of jealousy easing off his face. Shaking his head slightly, he presumed that the teen looked jealous merely because he thought that Laura was attractive.

Derek hastily opened up a slideshow document before looking around at the still standing class. “You know this is an hour lesson, you can sit down,” he stated, watching as the students all glanced around the room looking for seats until a ginger girl that had answered to Lydia earlier inquired, “And how exactly are we meant to do that? There are no chairs.” Looking the girl up and down, taking in the tone of her voice and her choice of clothes, Derek smirked before replying, “Then sit on the floor.” The look of disgust was copied on a selection of the other girl’s face, whilst the majority of the females followed the lads in sitting on the cold wooden floor. Deciding it was probably best to avoid a confrontation this early in the day and in his job, Derek offered up a compromise. “How’s about you sit on the floor for this week Lydia, and I will look into acquiring a load of bean bag chairs for next session.” Smirking as the girl took a moment to consider the situation before reluctantly moving to sit on the floor, but not before demanding the jacket off of a kid called Jackson, Derek watched as the other girls followed the leader in sitting on the floor. “Let’s begin then. As an introduction, we are going to begin looking at the human form in art.”

The rest of the lesson passed by in a blur to Derek, losing himself in the blur of facts, knowledge and his opinions on the topic that he was teaching the group. He knew that the use of human form was a wide topic, and that it could easily be considered a boring topic if not taught with enthusiasm, so he tried to put some life into the lecture. He included a traditional motivational piece to end the lesson by showing the class a picture of one of Lucian Freud’s earlier paintings, ‘Girl with a Kitten’, and comparing it with one of his later paintings , telling the class that if they did enough of something they would improve greatly. Derek knew that most of the class probably just rolled their eyes at that, but he didn’t mind; he wanted to encourage them. “I expect a small piece of writing about the use of human form in art to be handed in during tomorrow’s lesson. Nothing big or fancy, I just want to assess your writing, so that I can offer help to anyone who might end up needing it when it comes to writing essays. Also if you ever need anything, if you need someone to talk to, I will always be happy to help.” Derek smiled at the students as they traipsed out of the class, all grateful to get up off of the floor. “It wasn’t nice pretending to be a student you know,” Derek turned to see Stiles pouting as he stood up, the last to leave. Resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at the ridiculous pout on the kids face, Derek stated with a smirk, “I never pretended, you just presumed.” Derek watched as Stiles huffed in mock-irritation, before practically running out of the door when he heard the bell signal the start of the kids next lesson; unable to hold back the laughter, Derek chuckled at the kid’s odd but cute behaviour. The laughter stopped leaving Derek to ponder on where the hell cute had come from and even more grateful that he had a free period; he felt the need to figure out where his head was.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of paint, random slideshows; students who gave a damn about the subject, students who didn’t give a shit, students who were just little shits. He received a running commentary of what students the other teachers thought were little shits during his lunch break, remotely shocked when he heard the chemistry teacher he believed to be called Adrian Harris say that the Stiles kid was a little shit; he was even more shocked that a few teachers agreed on it. He didn’t think the kid was trouble; the hyperactivity that the kid had shown during his class was probably what the others were referring too. He couldn’t help but to admit that he had been slightly fixated on the teen, his eyes catching the constant movement; the kid couldn’t sit still, he had to be moving whether it was shifting from side to side or a simple thrumming of his fingers on the floor. When the bell finally rang signally the end of the school day, Derek wasted no time in packing up and following his students out of the classroom. He sighed knowing that he was stuck between a rock and a hard place, not wanting to return to where he was living with his uncle, yet not really wanting to spend unnecessary time sat bored in his classroom doing nothing. Following the crowd of pupils into the car-park he walked over to his car, patting the bonnet in greeting. Looking up from the black car his eyes were immediately drawn to the vehicle next to him, there sat in a blue jeep that looked like it had seen better days sat Stiles. Returning the stare, Derek forced himself to break the slight trance, smiling at the teen before getting into his own car. Reversing swiftly out of the car-parking place, he knocked the gear into drive, speeding slightly out of the school car-park as he tried to register why he was so focused on the kid.

Having decided to drive around for a while to clear his head, Derek grew tired of the endless tree lined roads eventually giving in and driving towards the house that he was staying in with his uncle. The house was just on the edge of town, close to the burnt ruins of their old family home. Pulling into the drive, Derek registered the Audi S8 that was already parked next to the moderately sized house. Sighing, Derek checked his pockets quickly, making sure that he hadn’t left a lighter in them before stepping out of the Camaro. Glancing around as he locked the car door behind him, Derek glared to himself at the lack of civilization this close to the edge of town; there wasn’t another house for a mile and rarely did anybody drive past. Walking into the house, he was immediately met with the brute force of a hand closing around his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading it. 
> 
> Firstly, the comment, "Okay I will try to remember all your names but if I forget I will just call you Steve,” is something I do when I work as a sports instructor. I can't take credit for the brilliance of it though, one of my lovely colleagues started it once when we were teaching a group rock-climbing. I have just used it ever since. 
> 
> This is the link to Lucian Freud's 'Girl with a Kitten' . http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/freud-girl-with-a-kitten-t12617 . If anyone is interested, I would recommend to look at how different his later works were compared to this. A good reference is the portrait he did of Kate Moss.


	3. Clear and Unclear

He had decided to forgo sitting in his usual position on top of his table today, instead choosing to sit in the much less comfortable desk-chair. Derek still didn’t know how he had managed to make it through the day already, his head was still throbbing from yesterday, and a class full of loud freshman just before lunch had not made it any better. The light and airy feel that he so often loved about the art studio was currently making the pain ache more, making Derek choose to sit with his head nestled in his arms resting on his desk. The noise still echoed in from the corridor, but it didn’t bother him as much as the brightness had. He didn’t know how much longer he had left of his lunch break, only focusing on trying to relax his sore muscles, and evening out his breathing so that his ribs would stop pounding in his chest.

_The hand on his throat didn’t loosen the grip, instead squeezing harder as soon as the door swung closed behind Derek. The privacy of the house, in such an isolated location allowed Peter to let out his full rage on his nephew; without having to worry about their fights being heard by those who didn’t need to know. Derek winced at the pressure being placed on his esophagus, not wanting to make a noise as it would only encourage his uncle. “Where the hell have you been boy!” Derek gasped for air as the pressure increased when his uncle spat the words at him, the scarred face leaning into his personal space. Trying to find the air for words, Derek panted in harsh breaths, “Work. I’ve been… at…work.” The hand on his throat disappeared, leaving Derek spluttering for a mouthful of air, before the hand returned back-handing him across the face causing the younger man to lose his balance, falling onto the floor; his head smacked against the hard wood with a force that hurt more than his uncles hit. “Don’t lie to me!” Peter yelled as his nephew stayed laid on the floor, Derek knew what would happen if he tried to get up; he would only be beaten straight back down. Staring at the wooden boards, feeling the familiar texture of blood in his mouth, Derek spat the taste onto the floor glaring at the quantity of red, knowing that it meant he had a split lip. “I’m not lying to you…” he began, grunting when he received a hard kick to his side, followed rapidly by another and another. “I didn’t realize schools now finished at six in the evening! You lying little shit!” Peter fumed, his kicks continuing with increasing speed, a malicious cackle filling the air as a sharp crack echoed through the room. Huffing through the pain that spread through his chest, Derek whimpered, “It was a staff… staff meeting. I then… drove around to get used… used to the area.” The scarred man tutted in distaste at the other man who remained panting on the ground, stamping on his hip before spitting at him as he walked away, “If your ever back later than five do not expect me to be as nice as I was this time. Clean yourself up Derek, you’re a disgrace.”_

Wincing at the vivid memory of the previous day, Derek shifted, moving his hand up inside the baggy hoody that he had worn that day instead of his normal wardrobe of tight t-shirts. His fingers brushed over the bandages that he had applied to his chest, the cracked rib letting out a jolt of agony through the dull ache he had already been feeling. Letting out a sigh, he felt slightly grateful that it wasn’t fully broken, he knew it would have felt even worse if it had been. Hearing the bell ring out caused him to wince slightly at the tremor it sent through his body, raising his head up off the desk Derek prepared himself for the onslaught of questions he had already received from every class already that day. As if on cue, the kid he vaguely remembered being called Jackson strutted in followed by the rest of the class slowly trailing in after him, some still stuffing the remains of lunch quickly into their mouths. A soft smile momentarily appeared on his face, as he watched Stiles practically fall into the classroom with a handful of curly fries still sticking out of his mouth; he looked as if he just grabbed them and stuffed them in. Derek couldn’t help but to watch as the kid somehow managed to chew the food before Stiles asked with a soft frown, “Dude what happened to your face?” Self-consciously rubbing his thumb delicately over the bruise that adorned his cheek, simultaneously licking at the cut on his bottom lip, “Tripped over when jogging in the woods.” It was an excuse he had used for years, most people just nodded taking in how fit he was and putting it down to presuming he was a clumsy person; Derek watched as Stiles raised an eyebrow the frown still on the teens face, the kid obviously did not fully believing the excuse.

Doing the register, Derek looked around the class before instructing them, “Okay guys, grab a piece of paper and a few pieces of charcoal off my desk and pick an easel.” Pointing them to the circle of easels, organized around a square dais, Derek watched as a few students stood looking at the easels as if trying to figure out which one would be best. Fighting back a groan, he stated, “Just pick any easel, it won’t matter. No one will get a better view than another.” Letting out a sigh of relief when people stopped fussing about where to work, Derek signalled for the life model, who had been hovering in the doorway, to come in. “This is going to be your model for the next two hours guys,” Derek addressed to the class before turning to the model dressed only in a robe, “Okay Jack, just do a few quick warm up poses and then we can set you out with a long pose.” Receiving a nod in response, Derek watched as the classes mouths dropped as the young model stripped off the robe and moved to stand naked on the dais. Moving a stool closer to the slightly raised platform, Derek looked around at the mixture of blushing female students and awkward male students. “Thirty second sketches. Begin.”

As the session neared its end, Derek moved from his position at his desk, where he had sat for a large portion of the session silently nursing his throbbing ribs. Slowly walking around the easels looking at the classes work over their shoulder, occasionally offering advice to those who needed it, Derek stopped as he stared over Stiles shoulder at his work; a slight blush began to creep onto his face. Coughing slightly to hide the awkwardness of what he was seeing, Derek instantly regretted it, wincing as the cough cause a sharp twinge to course through his chest starting at his cracked rib. The cough and the wince caught Stiles attention, the teen turning slightly to stare at Derek. Clutching the side of his chest despite the teens eyes following the movement, Derek pointed to Stile drawing, “You seem to have got very interested in this section here.” Smiling slightly as he watched Stiles blush as the kid realized that in his drawing he had started to ignore the majority of the figure, instead focusing on the details of the models penis. He chuckled slightly despite himself as he watched the teens blush deepen, the colour rising into his hairline. Stiles tried to cover the detailed section of the drawing with his hand, however Derek caught the teens wrist stopping him, offering a soft smile in reassurance, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Everyone does it at some point.” Letting go of the teen’s wrist, Derek watched as Stiles dropped his head in slight embarrassment, giving him a final reassuring pat on the shoulder Derek walked over to the next student, slightly grateful that this one hadn’t decided to focus completely on the penis.

“Thank you all for remembering to do your homework, I will have them marked for your session next Tuesday, and the bean-bags will have arrived by then don’t worry Lydia. Now go on, clear off enjoy the rest of the afternoon.” Derek smiled as the students practically run out of the door, all happy that they had been let out of their last lesson five minutes early. Bending over to pick up his bag from where he had dropped it on the floor that morning, he let out a small whimper of pain. “Do you want a painkiller or something?” Looking up, Derek was met with Stiles looking down at him in worry. Grabbing the bag before pushing himself back into a standing position, Derek smiled before replying trying to hide the wince as his rib throbbed again, “No I’ll be okay, but thanks for offering.”  
“You sure? I mean I’m practically a walking talking pharmacy.” Stiles offered again, stretching his arms out to the side, before rocking backwards on the balls of his feet. Chuckling softly to himself, Derek couldn’t help but to smirk at the student, “You know, you shouldn’t be saying stuff like that. It makes you sound like you’re dealing. You’re too young to be a drug dealer Stiles.” The spluttering response nearly caused Derek to fall against his desk due to laughing too much as he watched Stiles flail. “I’m not! I only have my Adderall and painkillers. It’s just cause… argh, it’s just a shoulder injury from basically being a tackling dummy in lacrosse and yeh obviously Adderall’s for ADHD, so obviously I have ADHD. Not a dealer. Not a dealer I swear.” Smiling at the kid, the slight awkwardness that took over Stiles posture when he mentioned the Adderall showed Derek it was obviously a sore spot for the kid to talk about. “A painkiller would actually be great, thanks.” The smile that filled the kids face after Derek’s comment, Derek swore it could be compared to a light bulb and the smile would still be brighter. Gracefully accepting the small pill after he watched Stiles search in the bag for the bottle, Derek watched as a blush took over the kids face. “I’ll see you next week Stiles,” Derek offered with a smile as he grabbed at his bag from the table. “Yeh, I’ll see you next week Derek, I mean Mr Hale. Crap.” Derek watched in confusion as Stiles ran out of the room, the kid nearly tripping over his own feet during his escape. He didn’t know how Stiles knew his name, dread slowly spreading through his body that the kid was aware of what had happened a few years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The awkward moment when Stiles gets told that hes gotten interested in drawing the models penis has happened to me before, however it wasn't a penis. My teacher came up to me, pointed to the arse and said she can see that I was interested in this section here. One of the most awkward moment ever.


	4. A Drink Too Many

The rest of the week passed by quickly for Derek, the continuous rhythm of classes, meetings and markings made the weekend zoom towards him. The thought of being trapped inside the house with Peter for two endless days without a break made him slightly wish that school could be taught every single day. Friday evening, Derek had returned back to the house to see Peter waiting for him in the hallway, fists ready and a suitcase packed by his feet. The punches hurt as usual, but Derek was grateful that his uncle avoided his rib despite knowing the reason why; he knew that his uncle didn’t want for him to end up with a broken bone, it caused too many questions when Derek had to go to A+E. When the beating finally finished, leaving Derek curled up on the floor, Peter standing over him spitting at the younger male, “I’m going away on business for the weekend. I will back Monday, if you burn down the house make sure you’re inside it when you do it.” Derek refused to move, or utter a sound until he heard the front door slam and his uncle’s car starting up; pushing himself up off of the wooden boards, Derek let out a small sob as the words Peter said dwindled in his brain. Shaking his head, Derek walked slowly up the stairs to his room, grateful for the slight sanctuary he felt as he pushed the door closed behind him. It wasn’t much, a bed, a desk, a bookcase and a wardrobe, but Derek swore that the four walls kept him save from his uncle. Falling onto the bed, he stared at the ceiling, rage and sadness swimming inside of him.

 

It was that emotional mixture that had him pulling up outside a bar a short while after. He didn’t care what kind of bar it was, as long as he could sit and drink a copious amount of alcohol, he wouldn’t have cared if it was full of the people who used to sneer at him after his families deaths. Walking into the full bar, Derek quickly noticed it had a club element to it, with a large space cleared in a pit for a dance-floor and flashing lighting; the thumping music dulled his mind, thoughts getting lost in the pulse. Taking note that the majority of the people were in the pit downstairs, Derek had no trouble grabbing a seat at the bar as he waited for the bartender to come over to ask for his order. Feeling a hand resting on his shoulder, Derek stiffened resisting the urge to flinch away from the touch; turning around to see who the hand belonged to, he couldn’t help but to gasp in shock when he saw the hand belonged to Stiles. “Fancy buying me a drink sexy- Oh shit! Mr Hale!” He couldn’t help but to chuckle as he watched the teen flail slightly, the hand dropping away from his shoulder. Allowing the kid to flail and stutter in embarrassment for a few moments, Derek intervened as the kids blush got brighter when he teased, “Shouldn’t you be at home doing your homework instead of asking dirty old men to buy you drinks?” Derek let out a genuine laugh as he watched Stiles once again drift into a speech of stutters and ‘urghs’. Watching as the kid frowned at the laughter, Derek smiled as Stiles grumbled, “If you’re not gonna buy me a drink, don’t be a dick.”

“Why would I buy a drink for someone who I know isn’t legally allowed one for another five years?” Derek smirked, watching as the kid frowned as he turned towards the bartender that had just walked over, “Two beers, thanks.” Accepting the two bottles, handing over the note in the process, he turned to Stiles, “No one is to know that I just brought a minor alcohol. I like my job; I’d rather not lose it after only a week.” Derek handed over one of the bottles when the kid nodded eagerly in response. “So why are you here, and not out throwing eggs at houses or whatever you rebellious kids do these days?” he inquired, the sight of Stiles erupting into giggles warming his chest. “Oh man! Derek you crack me up! Get it, eggs, crack! Besides where else can I go? This isn’t exactly a place where I’m likely to run into someone who works with my dad.” Stiles replied, taking a clumsy gulp from the bottle as Derek glared at him slightly. “Okay, secondly how do you know my name?” Derek countered; the question had been on his mind ever since the first incident had occurred after the lesson on Wednesday. Derek watched as the kid swirled his hands around, before pointing a finger at his own face, “Hello; sheriff’s son. He leaves case reports around the house, and I get intrigued. I read… I read the one about the fire. I’m sorry.” Eyeing the kid, as if judging his actions, Derek asked, “What are you sorry for, that it happened, or the fact you read the private case file?”

“I’m sorry that you lost your family. I know what it’s like to lose someone. My mum died, and I know it doesn’t compare to losing what you have. I just, I’m sorry. I can leave if you want.” Stiles stuttered, looking down in embarrassment and to hide the way his eyes watered slightly at the mention of his mum. Derek spotted the beginnings of the tears, grabbing the teen by the arm as Stiles tried to stand up, “Thank you. Most people just say sorry because they think it’s what they’re meant to say.” Watching as the teen sat back into his seat, Derek chuckled, “So does the Sheriff know that his son is out at seedy bars, calling his teachers sexy –Yes Stiles I did hear you say that - and asking old men to buy him drinks?” The flabbergast expression on the kids face when he had pointed out that he had heard Stiles call him sexy, made Derek’s chuckle rise to a laugh that drew looks from some of the others sitting at the bar. Derek watched as Stiles once again turned red, before shaking his head signalling that his father didn’t know what he was up to. Nudging him in the arm slightly with his elbow, Derek leaned in whispering in the kid’s ear smirking as Stiles shivered at the feel of his breath on the skin, “Don’t worry, your little secret’s safe with me.”

 

The pair continued chatting, Stiles somehow convincing Derek to order him another beer when the first one dwindled to dregs at the bottom of the bottle. They both took in their surroundings, finding slight entertainment in watching a pair of men arguing on the other side of the bar. Derek grimaced, flinching as the argument developed into a fight, grateful when a staff member had quickly intervened, stating that the police had been called and were on the way. He had watched at Stiles, whilst he relaxed at the knowledge, the kid had stiffened in fear; Stiles flailed his arms as he panicked, “Shit! My dad!” Swearing under his breath, Derek looked at the kid, “Have you got your jeep with you? I’m sure if you left now your dad wouldn’t see you.” He watched as Stiles shook his head, rambling, “No! I said I was staying at a friend’s tonight. I said that Scott was gonna pick me up and then we were going out, I walked here. I drank a lot before you came in as well.” Derek could see now, Stiles was more than just slightly tipsy, he was on the verge of being very drunk. Sighing, Derek moved away from the stool that he had been sat on, “Come on, I can give you a lift, I’ve only had a beer.”

Helping Stiles up from the kids stool, Derek took in how uneasy the kid was on his feet; wrapping an arm around the teen’s waist, he mentally argued with himself that he was only doing it to stop Stiles falling over. Cautiously aiding the kid through the door, Derek walked slowly towards where he had parked the Camaro, ignoring the comfort he felt when Stiles leant into his body. Helping him into the passenger seat, even assisting the kid in putting the seatbelt on, Derek moved to the front seat just as he glimpsed a police cruiser coming down the road. Jumping into the car, Derek insisted gently pushing Stiles down, “Duck!” Quickly putting the car into drive, he turned onto the road as the police cruiser indicated to turn into the pub’s car park; looking in the mirror, Derek gulped slightly as he saw Sheriff written in large letters on the car. Glancing at the time being shown on his radio, grimacing when he saw the little numbers reading out that it was past midnight, he glanced over at Stiles to see that the kid had his eyes closed with his head resting against the cold window. Derek knew that the kid would feel it in the morning if not in a little while, deciding that it wasn’t fair to force someone else to deal with it, Derek tapped Stiles gently on the thigh, “Hey Stiles, you can crash at mine tonight.”


	5. Drunken Disasters

Despite how small the kid was, Derek was suddenly very grateful that he worked out when he was physically able too; Stiles had fallen asleep in the car on the way to the house and Derek didn’t have the heart to wake him up. The hyperactive teen looked so cute and innocent, Derek watched as his eyelashes fluttered softly against his cheeks. Smiling at the kid’s sleeping form; Derek moved his arms in between Stiles and the seat, gently easing the teen out of the car before cradling him against his chest. Muttering to the slumbering teen as he gasped at the sudden weight in his arms, “You’re lucky you’re cute. I would have left you in the car otherwise.” Ignoring the soft ache that spread though his chest, Derek walked slowly towards the front door of the house; he reluctantly shifted the kid into a standing position as he fumbled with the keys. He grunted as he managed to open the door, instantly picking Stiles back up into the same cradling embrace before walking inside. Looking at the stairs in front of him, Derek groaned, contemplating just putting Stile’s on the couch and being done with it; deciding that leaving him on a couch would be too unpleasant for Stiles to wake up too especially if the kid had a hangover, Derek began to slowly walk up the staircase.

 

Huffing as he reached the final step, Derek walked into his room, gently dropping Stiles onto the bed before moving across the room to grab the bin, moving it to rest on the floor next to where the kid laid on the bed. He couldn’t help but to stare as the kids eyes fluttered slowly before opening slightly, placing a hand against Stile’s cheek, Derek gently rubbed the soft skin with his thumb. Whispering softly, “Hey kiddo, there’s a bin beside the bed. Try not to puke on the sheets okay?” Derek waited till Stiles nodded softly before continuing, “I’ll be downstairs on the couch if you need me.” Rubbing the skin on Stiles cheek once more, Derek forced himself to step away from the kid. He had reached the door when he heard the obvious sound of vomit splashing against the bottom of the metal bin. Turning around, recoiling as the smell instantly hit his nose, Derek moved back over to where Stiles was leaning hazardously over the side of the bed; placing a hand on the kids back, he rubbed small soothing circles as the teen continued throwing up into the bin. “Please don’t leave me,” Stiles begged with tears streaming down his red face. Not completely knowing why but mentally reasoning that he did it to comfort the kid, Derek leaned over pressing a soft kiss against Stiles forehead, before muttering against the hot skin, “I won’t. I promise.”

When Stiles had stopped throwing up every couple of seconds, Derek slowly pulled the bin away from where the kid was practically hugging it; he walked into the bathroom to wash the contents out, grabbing a small facecloth and a bottle of mouthwash as he returned to his room. Smiling slightly at the kid who had pulled off a few pieces of clothes whilst he was in the bathroom; Stiles laid on the bed whilst his hoody, shoes and socks had worked themselves onto Derek’s bedroom floor. Shaking the slightly itching in the back of his head at the idea of Stiles clothes being thrown onto his bedroom floor, Derek slowly walked over to the teen placing the bin back on the floor by the bed before pushing the mouthwash and the facecloth into the kids hand.

 

Looking the teen over, and knowing the discomfort of sleeping in jeans first hand, Derek pulled a pair of sleep-pants out of a drawer before moving back towards the exhausted kid. “Come on Stiles, give me a hand here. Come on kid, your risking my job and I’m risking getting arrested,” Derek murmured mainly to himself before raising his voice and asking, “Hey stiles, do you want to change out of your jeans?” Watching as the kid nodded into the pillow, not making any effort to get out of the trousers, Derek growled slightly to himself before sitting on the bed next to Stiles thigh. Taking a deep breath, in an attempt to control a feeling of desire that swept through Derek’s body at the thought of undressing the teenager who he couldn’t help but to feel attracted towards; he raised his shaking hand, slowly undoing the belt that was keeping Stiles jeans on. Letting out an unsteady breath, Derek popped the buttons open, before gently shimmying the material down the teen’s slightly muscular thighs. “Come on kid, help me out here.” Derek insisted whilst trying to keep his eyes firmly fixed on Stiles face. Grunting as the teen lifted his hips slightly allowing Derek to fully pull the trousers off, discarding them with the rest of the clothes on the floor. Catching the movement in the corner of his eyes, Derek poked Stiles in the hip as the kid dropped them back onto the bed, “Hey kid, you’re not done yet.” Smiling as the teen groaned, lifting his hips off the duvet again as Derek pulled the baggy sleep-pants up Stiles thighs. “They’re going to be baggy, but you’re going to have to live with that I’m afraid. Come on shirt off too, you got a bit of sick on it kiddo.” Derek assisted the teen in pulling the shirt off, bundling it up with the rest of the clothes before quickly running down the stairs and throwing them in the washing machine.

Returning, he smiled when he saw Stiles had worked his way underneath the duvet, the kid’s sleepy eyes watching his movements. “Don’t leave me,” Stiles muttered into the pillow before his eyes slowly began to drop closed. Derek moved to sit on the other side of the bed, kicking off his shoes as he leant against the headboard, determined to only stay on the bed until the kid fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drunk Stiles is an incident that has occurred with one of my friends before. However he was literally 20 times worse than what I’ve written Stiles as. His girlfriend didn’t help either cause she was slightly drunk.


	6. The Morning After

The repetitive beeping from his alarm clock, which Derek had forgotten to turn off filled the room, slowly forced the two inhabitants awake. “Turn off the thing that sounds like a siren! My head hurts,” Stiles whimpered, hiding his head under the duvet. Blinking awake punching the snooze button simultaneously whilst trying to become more conscious, Derek found himself with a crick in his neck and his back. Glancing quickly around the room, he realised that he must have fallen asleep sitting against his headboard. Letting out a mix between a sigh and a grunt, he looked down at his lap, smiling slightly as he saw Stiles head resting on his duvet covered thigh. His hand rested on the soft bristles of the kids short buzzed hair, obviously having been stroking the soft strands during his sleep, Derek stroked it again enjoying the silk-like feel of it underneath his fingers. 

 

He reached across where the teen remained sprawled across his bed, grabbing for the two small pills that he had put on the bedside table before falling asleep last night. “Hey Stiles try and take these for me kiddo. They’ll make you feel better,” Derek encouraged in a quiet voice, not wanting to hurt the kids head even more than it probably already was. Failing to get a response, he nudged him gently in the visible shoulder that was digging into his hip; Derek smiled as Stiles squirmed slightly. “Come on kid, all the hassle you put me through last night, the least you could do is take these two small little tablets,” grinning as Stiles reluctantly moved grabbing blindly at where the kid presumed Derek’s hand was, being kind Derek placed the painkillers into the kids palm watching as he shoved them into his mouth, quickly swallowing them down. “Now that wasn’t too difficult was it,” he teased softly, returning to stroking the kid’s hair softly. 

 

Derek knew as he continued stroking the kid’s hair that he shouldn’t be doing any of what he had. He shouldn’t have been so focused on the teen. He shouldn’t have brought him a beer; he shouldn’t have brought him another beer. He shouldn’t have spent several hours chatting with the kid in a bar. He shouldn’t have given the kid a lift. He shouldn’t have let the kid crash at his house; especially not in his bed. He shouldn’t have stayed in the bed with him. He shouldn’t have practically stripped the kid and he knew that he shouldn’t be sat in the bed with the teen stroking his hair. Derek knew that he shouldn’t have felt the sudden attraction towards the kid. He knew; but just because he knew that he shouldn’t, didn’t stop him from doing it.

 

Feeling a finger poking him in the abdomen, Derek looked down to see Stiles smiling awkwardly up at him. “You were thinking too loudly.” Returning the smile, Derek’s shifted smirk twisted into a small frown of confusion, “Why were you at the bar last night Stiles?” He felt Stiles shift his position slightly, his head remaining resting on his thigh whilst one of the kids hands drifted to drawing patterns on the skin around his knee, the teen explained quietly, “I just wanted to feel like someone wanted to talk to me. I wanted to ignore the world that is Beacon Hills High School too. I guess I kinda failed, seeing as I talked to my teacher all evening and I doubt that you would have wanted to spend your evening talking and babysitting me.”

 

“Stiles, don’t put yourself down like that. Cause quite honestly that was one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time.” Derek replied, only just resisting the urge to fully pull the teen into his arms and embrace him, instead he allowed the hand that had been stroking the kids hair, to fall and caress his cheek like it had done the night before. “You must’ve had a load of really shit nights recently if I’m one of your bests,” Stiles teased, leaning into the touch that was on his cheek. Chuckling softly, Derek replied with a small grin, “Yeh, I kind of have, but it sounds like you’ve had a fair few shit ones as well. Do you want to talk about it?” He watched as the kid stiffened slightly, before giving in and letting out a sigh as Stiles explained, “I dunno, it’s just my friend Scott. He’s kinda ditched me for this girl he met during the summer, and they all got together and stuff and they’re dating. She’s friends with the popular kids like Lydia and Jackson, so Scott hangs out with them and her now. I’ve kinda been forgotten on the side lines.” 

 

During his little rant, Stiles had shifted again, moving to sit against the headboard beside Derek, leaning into the older man’s side. Derek smiled at the teen’s movement, barely registering when he moved his arm, draping it around the kid’s shoulders. Nudging him affectionately with his forehead, grinning when he inhaled the soft scent of the teen’s hair, Derek whispered just above the kids ear, “I’m always here if you need to talk to someone Stiles, I will not ditch you for some popular kids or for some random girl. I promise.” Derek watched as the kid pushed himself out of the side-embrace, pushing the duvet off of him, instead sitting next to his hip facing him. “Do you promise?” Stiles asked biting on his bottom lip until Derek slowly nodded his head. The smile that filled the kids face was instantly mirrored on his own. 

 

Without warning, Derek was met with Stiles pushing himself forwards; the kid pressing an awkward kiss against his mouth. As the teen moved to pull away from the short encounter, Derek found himself placing a hand on the back of Stiles neck, bringing their lips together again; the awkwardness no longer present. With his eyes closed, enjoying the kiss, Derek felt Stiles move to straddle his hips. He moved one of his hands to press against the small of the kids back, whilst the other remained in place on the back of the teen’s neck. Stiles licked cautiously at the bottom of Derek’s lip, both releasing a moan when their tongues met, battling for a dominance that was easily won by Derek. Breaking apart momentarily to regain breath, Stiles pressed a chaste kiss against Derek’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two Chapters in a night! I feel like I'm spoiling some lucky buggers. Now I go to sleep :)


	7. Friends?

Derek walked into Beacon Hills High School on Tuesday morning with a heavy feeling sitting in his chest. He kept his eyes glued to the floor as he negotiated his way through the school’s corridors, speed walking towards his classroom. He felt awful; he had felt bad over the weekend, but knowing that he had to face Stiles today had made him want to hide in the still empty house. Derek was thankful that Peter hadn’t yet returned from the business trip, he didn’t want to have to deal with the horror that his uncle inflicted. He had revelled in the quietness, moping in the living room, not wanting to face what had happened in his room; every time he set foot in his bedroom, Derek was overcome by guilt.

 

_The soft kiss that Stiles had pressed against his lips once again deepened momentarily, Derek’s hands dropped to the kids hips; the teen moaned as the older man gently rubbed the uncovered skin on his hips. Derek pulled away from the kiss when he felt Stiles push down rubbing his erection against the older man’s own growing hard-on. The kid leaned forwards, trying to recapture the kiss again, Derek putting a finger against his lips stopping the action he stated, “We can’t do this Stiles.” He watched as Stiles pouted as the kid replied, “Why not? It’s not like you’re taking advantage. I want this Derek. I want you!” The teen jumped off of Derek’s hips storming around the room looking for the clothes that he remembered throwing on the floor the night before. Groaning slightly at the comment, Derek watched as the kid stomped around the room, sighing he budged out of the bed, moving to stand in front of the upset kid. “Stiles, I can’t do that. Not right now.” The kids pout deepened, turning into a kicked puppy expression. Sighing softly, Derek rubbed the skin on Stiles cheek, sighing as the kid leaned into the touch, “Like I said Stiles, I can’t do this now.” Derek watched as Stiles expression stiffened, the pout shifting into a slight scowl as the kid once again started searching for his clothes. “There in the washing machine downstairs. They should be dry…”The kid didn’t bother listening to the rest as he stormed out of the room and stomped down the stairs._

 

Stiles had dressed quickly, Derek had a time convincing the kid to give him a lift home; Stiles had agreed reluctantly only speaking to demand him to drop him off a street away. The teen had stormed out of Derek’s car, slamming the door behind him as Derek tried to shout after the kid. The tension that had remained during their departure was what Derek was dreading in the lesson. He wanted to make things right with the kid, but was fearful of what would happen. He had spent the entire day on Monday dreading being called into the principal’s office, fearing that Stiles had said something that would have risked him his job. Nothing had happened, and he had merely returned home expecting to be greeted with Peter’s sadistic smile, which he wasn’t met with.

 

Now he stood in his art room, his bag dumped by the side of his desk, his laptop already running with the lessons PowerPoint open on the screen and projected onto the wall. Pulling the bean bag chairs out of the cupboard, he dumped them in a pile on the floor before staring blankly at the clock hanging on the wall waiting. As the bell rang, Derek didn’t know if he wanted to be nervous, be scared or if he wanted to just faint and ignore it all. When the students slowly filed into the class, less enthusiastic than the week previous, he looked over them all, only wanting to see the familiar buzz cut that made his heart thump against his chest. Stiles was the last student to come falling into the room, quite literally as the kid tripped over his own feet flailing slightly as he tried to catch himself. He was unable to resist smiling at the kid despite how nervous he was, he watched as the flailing mass dropping onto a beanbag that was far withdrawn from the small cluster that the other students had made. Frowning slightly at this move, Derek began the register, stuttering slightly as he trailed over Stiles name.

He spent the lesson, trying to remain focused on the topic, and trying not to stare at the sour expression that seemed to fill Stiles face whenever he noticed that Derek was staring at him. As the bell rang out and people pushed themselves up off of the bean bags, Derek called out in front of the class, “Stiles, could you stay behind a moment. I would like to talk to you about your writing.” His heart ached as he watched the scowl fill the kids face, but Stiles moved to stand at the edge of Derek’s desk waiting for the last of the students to trail out towards their next lesson. “You know that I’m missing Chemistry and that Mr Harris already hates me.” Stiles snapped when Derek closed the door. Growling slightly, Derek walked over to where the kid stood, “Of course I’m aware that he hates you, I have to listen to him bitching about you! I have to stop myself going over there and making him shut up.”

 

The shocked expression that filled the kids face at the comment pulled at Derek’s heartstrings, “Yeh Stiles, I care. Just because I pushed you away doesn’t meant that I don’t care, because god I do.” Gently reaching out to softly touch the kid’s cheek, Derek smiles softly as he watched the kid lean into the touch; stroking at the skin, he whispered, “I would like to be friends with you Stiles, because at the moment I can’t be anything more.” The teen stared into Derek’s eyes, nodding slowly before a wide grin filled the kids face as he remarked, “You said ‘at the moment’, that means that we could be something more eventually. So for the moment I can settle in being your friend Derek.” Smiling the kid jumped around, getting ready to leave the room, turning back around just before he reached the door. “Pass me your phone.” Stiles commented, holding out his hand expectantly.

“My what? Why do you want my phone?”

“Cause Derek; friends generally have each other’s numbers on each other’s phones, and cause you want us to be friends, that’s what I think we should do.” Stiles wiggled his fingers, as if to emphasis a point. Groaning, Derek pulled his phone from his back pocket, unlocking it with a slide of his finger before handing it over to the kid. He watched as the kid keyed in a number on his phone, before keying in Derek’s number on his own phone. Handing the device back to him, Stiles glanced at the clock flailing slightly as he realised that Harris was probably going to give him a detention for being this late. “I can give you a note, saying that you were held up by me,” Derek stated noting the kids reaction. Quickly scribbling down a note to hand to the chemistry teacher, Derek watched as Stiles opened the door, calling after the hyperactive kid, “We do actually need to talk about your writing skill at some point Stiles.” The teen rolled his eyes, doing a rude hand gesture before running down the hall towards the lesson he was meant to be in. Looking down at his phone, which he hadn’t put away yet, Derek scrolled through the small contact list, frowning slightly when he didn’t see Stiles name on the short list; he chuckled when he realized that Stiles had saved his contact details as ‘Future boyfriend’, Derek quickly typed out a message.

**I do actually mean it when I say I need to talk to you about your writing. By the way future boyfriend, really? x – D**

 

**What? I am gonna be ur future boyfriend, don’t be mean. My writing skill is amazing thanks. xx, see I win I put more kisses :P. – S**

 

**If you keep texting in class, Harris will give you a detention and I won’t write you a note to get out of that one. – D**

 

**U could give me a detention if u like sir. We could do naughty things on ur desk ;). x btw where was my kiss at the end of ur text!!!- S**

 

**Remember I said friends Stiles. – D**

 

**Remember u said at the moment we could only be friends Derek. I am focusing on that ‘at the moment’ part cause I reckon u wont last a week before you come back for another one of Stiles kisses. ;) xx - S**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating sooner, I was being very lazy yesterday. I can't guarantee daily updates I'm afraid. I have two essays due in soon as well as a bundle of painting that need to be painted.


	8. Revelations

The pair had continued texting for the rest of the day, Derek had chuckled each and every time the kid had tried to turn the innocent banter into a sexual suggestion. A consistent smile stayed on his face throughout the day, widening with every message that he received from the kid. The smile grew broader still when he finished teaching to arrive home to a still empty house.  Derek practically skipped up the stairs to his room, letting out a large sigh of relief when he collapsed forwards onto the bed. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he checked the message that he had received from the kid whilst he had been driving.  Smirking as he read the message, just like he had been doing throughout the day he hastily typed out a reply.

**Urgh. I hate school! Some arsehole teachers give out too much hwork!!! xx – S**

**I hope you don’t consider me to be one of those arsehole teachers :) – D**

**No ur not one of the arsehole teachers, though I reckon u probably do have a nice arsehole ;) xx – S**

Derek couldn’t help but to laugh at the kids text, he raised an eyebrow when he felt his phone buzz again; he had put it on vibrate earlier on. His ringtone had kept going off in one of his lessons making the class giggle every few seconds as Stiles sent more texts asking if he was being ignored, Derek had sent him one at the end of class calling him a little shit before explaining why he hadn’t been replying. He wasn’t mad at the kid; it made him smile at how hyperactive Stiles was even when doing such a simple thing like texting.  Checking his phone, he saw another message from Stiles.

**Im bored! I cant be arsed with hwork. xx – S**

**What am I supposed to do to about your boredom? – D**

**Entertain me!!! Im dying of boredom here!!!  xx – S**

**And how exactly am I meant to do that? – D**

His phone began buzzing continuously; Derek smirked when he looked at the screen to see an incoming call from ‘Future Boyfriend’, having not bothered to change the name on his contacts list. Sliding his finger along the screen accepting the call, Derek raised the phone to his ear chuckling as he heard Stiles remark, “This is how you can entertain me!” Gasping for air after erupting into laughter after the kids comment, Derek chuckled down the phone, “I’m not sure I’m qualified for that job Stiles, entertainer isn’t in my résumé.” Heading the kids giggles through the phone made his heart thump erratically against his chest; Derek frowned at his body’s reaction but quickly smiled when he listened to Stiles gulping for air before the kid burst into another fit of laughter.

 

He listened as Stiles gasped for air again, before the kid asked mischievously, “So what is on your résumé Mr Hale? Is Stiles Stilinski possible future boyfriend on there?” Derek let his mouth fall open slightly at how blunt the kid was; he smiled when he realized just how much he liked that element of the teen. Chuckling slightly, Derek replied, “You’re too much Stiles! I have honestly never met someone so funny.” He heard the kid move about through the phone, before Stiles whined impatiently, “You didn’t answer the question!” Derek smiled, imagining the kid to be sat pouting, trying to send puppy dog eyed feels through the phone to make the older man feel guilty, he quietly responded suddenly fearful that the conversation could be overheard by anyone, “It may be Stiles. There is something about you that pulls me in, and I hate to admit it but it’s too strong for me to fight against. You’re obviously something special.”

Rolling over, lying on his back as he stared at the ceiling, Derek waited for the kid to respond; the teen clearly taking a moment to respond to what he had been told.  “I think you’re special too,” he heard Stiles mumble into the mouth piece. Sensing the need to change topic of conversation, or else he’d say something that he knew he shouldn’t, Derek asked, “Should we discuss your writing now seeing as you ran off to chemistry before I could even talk about it.”

 

“There is nothing wrong with my writing!” Stiles playfully snapped. Chuckling softly, Derek chimed, “You wrote a two thousand word essay when I only asked for a short piece of writing. You also spent the last 500 words discussing the quantity difference of circumcised and uncircumcised males in art.” Derek couldn’t help but to laugh again when he heard Stiles curse, “Shit! My dad’s gonna kill me if you tell him I wrote another essay on circumcision.” Gently teasing the kid, Derek asked inquisitively, “You’ve written an essay about circumcision before? Should I feel less special now?” Scratching slightly at the skin that was on show between his trousers and his shirt, Derek listened as Stiles stuttered over an explanation, “Oh god, it was my mid-term exam last year in Finstocks class. I didn’t realize I did it till Finstock told my dad at a parent-teacher conference, apparently I detailed the entire history of the male circumcision. ” Choking back a laugh and momentarily losing self-control over what should and what shouldn’t be said, Derek taunted cheekily, “Well seeing as you seem to have an avid fascination with circumcision, I’ll let you know now that I am circumcised. I hope that doesn’t hurt my chances of being a future boyfriend.” Derek listened as Stiles groaned slightly before demanding, “Oh god, change of subject please!”

“Why? Do you not want to talk about my penis? Is my circumcised penis not good enough for you?” Derek joked, imaging Stiles flailing around in reaction to his comments. “If you keep talking about your dick, mine is going to get hard cause I’m gonna imagine your dick, and then my dick will want your dick and oh god stop me from talking!”

 Laughing at the kids comment, Derek flinched and bolted upright into a sitting position as he heard the loud slam of his already open bedroom door getting pushed with an obscene force into the wall. “Who the fuck are you talking too!” Peter thundered, inching closer to where Derek sat rigid on the bed. “Derek, who is that?” Stiles playful tone from earlier was gone, replaced with a worried voice that Derek hated hearing on the kid. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go,” he replied, hanging up the phone before Stiles could respond.  Dropping the phone onto the bed, Derek looked in fear at his uncles seething scared face, watching as the man drew back his fist and hit him in the face. 

 

The force pushed him backwards so that he was lying down again, pushing himself up into a sitting position Derek watched as Peter snatched at where the phone lay forgotten on the bed. Derek did nothing as he watched his uncle scroll through the call history, sneering at what he saw.  “Future Boyfriend?” Peter barked at him throwing the phone back onto the bed, the mocking tone piercing at Derek’s skin. The scarred man grabbed at Derek’s hair, pulling him so that the younger man’s face was inches away from the others. “Who would ever want to be with you?” His uncle spat at him, before forcing Derek to the floor with another hard punch to the cheek. Throughout the beating, Derek listened to the constant buzzing from his phone as Stiles continuously called and texted, waiting and trying to get him to answer.


	9. Spoken Desires

Derek wasn’t looking forward to the next three hours; he knew that Stiles was going to be angry if not furious at him and he hated to know what the kid would do when he saw the older man’s appearance. He grimaced as the lunch bell sounded, smiling as his class finished packing up, some waving a farewell which he half-heartedly returned with a fake smile etched onto his face. He glanced at the clock as the last kid ran out of the room at the prospect of food. Derek memorized the time before resting his head on his folded arms on his desk; he knew that Stiles was probably going to come pester him before the afternoon practical began. As if on cue, Derek heard the door to the studio open and shut, closely followed by the flail of limbs that stomped towards the desk. “Why didn’t you reply to my messages? I left you like 10, okay I lie, I left you about 40. Texts and voicemails! And who the hell was it who I heard shouting before you hung up?” Stiles demanded. Groaning slightly at the loud voice, Derek shifted reluctantly moving his head off the desk to look the kid in the eyes. Regret instantly filled his body as he watched the teen gasp at the sight that greeted him; Derek watched as Stiles took in the dark bruise that clearly resembled a fist on his cheek. 

 

The kid moved closer, reaching out to rub softly at the blemished skin, Derek flinched slightly at the initial touch before leaning into the comforting contact. He smiled gently as he felt Stiles lightly stroke the skin with his thumb, the touch similar to one that Derek had done to the kid before. The older man nodded for Stiles to take a seat on the edge of the desk, grateful that the teen did so whilst keeping his hand pressed to his bruised cheek. “I’m so sorry Stiles,” Derek began, quickly being shushed by the younger male. “Who did this to you Derek?” The kid whispered with his eyes glued to the blue specks in the bruise. Shaking his head, Derek caught the hand resting against his cheek, entwining it with his own before bringing the soft skin to his lips. Pressing a slight kiss to the back of Stiles hand, he sighed into the skin, “It was no one. Don’t worry about it kiddo.” 

He looked into the kids eyes, ignoring the slight glare that was etched onto the teen’s features. “It wasn’t no one, so don’t bullshit me saying that it was. Besides seeing as he’s clearly beating the shit out of you, and in your own home I might add; I think I should be worried. I am worried! I care about you; I’m allowed to be worried. Besides you still haven’t explained why you didn’t reply to my messages. Oh god I sound like an overbearing girlfriend.” Stiles exclaimed, pouting down at Derek who in return smiled up at the kid. “You’d make a good overbearing girlfriend,” the older man joked delicately trying to shift the topic of conversation, receiving a playful slap to the shoulder at the comment, he continued laughing, “I’m joking! I’m joking! I am sorry I didn’t reply Stiles, my phone has kind of well been murdered.” He pulled out the remaining pieces of his phone from his pocket, nodding slowly as Stiles gasped at the state of it. Peter had gotten sick of the constant buzzing halfway through the beating, throwing the device at the wall before stamping down repeatedly on the phone when the vibrating continued. When his uncle had left, slamming the door closed behind him, Derek had looked at the pieces groaning when the device had refused to turn on no matter how many attempts he made. 

 

“I think the sim card is fine, hopefully I’ll just need to get a replacement phone.” Derek reported before shoving the remains back into his pocket, before yawning into his hand, “Sorry didn’t get much sleep last night. Didn’t get any actually.” He felt as Stiles hand was once again pressed gently against his cheek, followed by a soft kiss against his forehead, when he yawned again. “You look exhausted, you shouldn’t even be driving around. You might fall asleep at the wheel. I could give you a lift to get a new phone. I mean if that’s okay? Cause I wouldn’t mind.” The kid rambled slightly, stopping when Derek caught his hand, bringing it back up to press a soft kiss too it again. “That sounds nice… I’m not doing very well with us sticking to being just friends am I?” Derek chuckled, smiling up at the teens own smiling face. Stiles shook his head before chiming, “You’re really not, especially last night Mr Circumcised. I’m not complaining though.” Derek grinned before quickly checking the clock; shifting his hand to the back of the teen’s neck, he pulled the kid down into a chaste kiss that spoke a promise of more to come. 

“Was that you giving in on being just friends?” Stiles asked pressing his lips against the older mans in another warm encounter. Smiling, Derek shifted placing an innocent kiss to the tip of the kids nose, “No, it is merely a lapse in judgement due to the lack of sleep.” The kid kissed him again, harder than the previous ones, breaking apart Stiles whispered against his lips, “You should defiantly stop sleeping then, your judgement is better when you haven’t slept.” Chuckling at the teen, Derek pressed a final chaste kiss against the kid’s lips before pulling away from the embrace they had worked themselves into, “The lesson is going to start in ten minutes. I don’t think it would be the best idea for the rest of the class to walk in and see you and me making out on my desk, or you straddling me in this chair.” He smiled as Stiles dropped his head onto the older man’s shoulder, groaning loudly, “Oh god, thanks for that Derek! I now have those ideas in my head. Urgh you’re evil; why did you have to say that? Did you want me to spend all lesson hard as a rock imaging us doing that!”

 

“Slow the pace Stiles, if I’m risking my job I want to enjoy this and not rush it,” Derek muttered, gently untangling himself from the kids embrace by standing up from the chair. Thankful for the frosted glass in the window on his door, he kissed the vibrant red lips that quickly pouted up at him when Derek moved away. “You’re a tease!” Stiles complained, begrudgingly grabbing his bag from where he had dropped it on the floor when he came in, moving towards the easel that he had used the week before. Smirking after the kid, he called back in retaliation, “I know that I’m a tease, quite often I do it just to see your reactions! You on the other hand, you don’t even know how much of a tease you are, practically everything you do I find unbelievably sexy.” Stiles raised his head, eyeing Derek as he asked, “Everything?” Moving over to stand next to him, Derek leaned down, his breath ghosting against Stiles lips. “Everything,” he acknowledged, stepping backwards with a wink as Stiles tried to close the gap between them, walking away he playfully slapped the kids butt receiving a yelp and a loud curse in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite honestly, I don't know what to think of this chapter. It deviated so far away from my plan that I can't help but to think that these guys just jumped forward a mile in their relationship progress in only 1000 words. What do you guys think? Is it okay or does it need slowing down?


	10. SourWolf

He blamed it on the lack of sleep as he instructed the class to do a self-portrait; he hadn’t got the strength to do a full lesson today. Derek smiled briefly at Stiles after he had answered countless questions from the class, giving the answers that they could do anything as long as it was a self-portrait and could argue that it was, stating, “You can paint a dog as long as you can validly argue how it’s a portrait of yourself. Be warned if you do produce a picture of a dog, I will be nicknaming you Spot or referring to you as the bitch for the rest of the term. This lesson is not an excuse for you to draw anything, and then try to sell me a pool of bullshit, so do not treat it as such.” He had received a quiet selection of chuckles at his comment, before he set them off to do work, grabbing his own sketchbook out of his bag whilst he watched the kids work.

 

Derek knew that he probably shouldn’t have jumped head first into whatever had started between him and Stiles. He blamed it on one of the things that Peter had said to him during the beating the night before, his uncle had momentarily stopped punching him and had kneeled down next to where he had fallen to the floor. The words that had come out of the scarred man’s mouth had made Derek’s blood run cold when his uncle inquired, “I wonder who this future boyfriend is? I can’t help but to speculate how much he would resist if I did this to him?” The fear that ran through Derek’s veins at the thought of Peter beating Stiles, made him realize just how much he had grown to care for the kid over such a short period of time. When Stiles had come up to him at lunch, demanding why he hadn’t received a reply from god knows how many messages the kid sent, Derek embraced the fear. He knew that if he got caught, he would be fired and possibly arrested, but he also knew that if he cared about Stiles enough, the risk shouldn’t matter. Smiling, he looked down at the blank page of his sketchbook, deciding to doodle whilst the class did their assignment.

 

With five minutes before the bell, Derek walked slowly around the circle of easels, looking at the images that the class produced. Most of them had done stereotypical mug-shot style portraits whilst making themselves look better or worse than the true appearance. Some had decided to do a more expressive response; staring over Stiles shoulder, Derek stared at the vibrant difference between the red and the black of the image. The lone figure, dressed in a bright red hooded jacket contrasting against the dark greys and blacks of a forest background. “This is interesting; the full figure encased in the darkness makes the eye instantly drawn to the person. To me, this shows isolation, loneliness. Is that what you were aiming for Stiles?” Derek announced to the class, drawing the students attention. Derek watched as the kid nodded blushing, slightly embarrassed by the attention as the class turned around to stare, Derek commented quietly to Stiles alone before walking to the next easel, “It’s very Red Riding Hood.”

 

He sat on his desk as he watched the class leave, smiling when he saw Stiles dwindling behind the rest.  The kid moved over to stand in front of him when the door swung close behind the last student. “So if I’m red riding hood, does that make you the big bad wolf?” Stiles asked playfully, earning a soft chuckle from the older man as he moved to grab the sketchbook that sat on the desk beside him. “I am so changing your contact information on my phone to Red Riding Hood now. It’s also funny you should say that about bad wolves,” Derek joked as he flipped the leather cover and pages over till he reached the doodle from earlier. Handing the book over to the kid, he watched as the teen stared wide eyed at the quick sketch of a wolf. “That’s not a big bad wolf, that’s a sourwolf.” Stiles smirked, handing the book back to the slightly confused man. “What the hell is a sourwolf?” Stiles grabbed the book back, holding it up and pointing at the picture of the wolf, “That’s a sourwolf Derek, and if I’m supposedly Red Riding Hood that makes you a sourwolf.”

Chuckling at the kid, pressing a soft kiss against his lips to shut him up, Derek grinned as he inquired “How much sugar have you had today?” Stiles shook his head, reaching up to pout for another kiss, smiling when Derek provided one, “None. I forgot to take my Adderall this morning.” Placing a chaste kiss on the kid’s nose, Derek moved to kiss the kids lips, his hand slipping to the back of Stiles neck, stroking the soft strands of hair at the base of his skull. Pulling away only slightly, he muttered against the teens lips, “Go home, take your Adderall. I’ll text you later when I get a new phone. I think I’ve got enough energy left to drive to a store and then drive back to my house.” Derek felt the teen reluctantly pulling away, ordering as the kid moved towards the door, “Urgh fine. I can still give you a lift if you want… Fine, I’ll go home and take my medication. Just please don’t end up with your car wrapped around a tree.” Derek had shaken his head at Stiles offer of a lift, more concerned over the kid going home and taking his pills. 

 

Smiling at the kid, he ushered him out of the room with his own bag in hand, locking the door behind them. Derek resisted the urge to rest his hand on the small of Stiles back, instead casually nudging him with his elbow as they walked side by side through the school corridor. Reluctantly separating as they exited the building, Derek moved to stand next to where their cars were so conveniently parked next to each other; he smiled at the kid waving a goodbye as he got inside the Camaro and drove out of the car park at a speed which he knew he shouldn’t be doing. He drove towards the mall, sighing as he struggled to find a space to park in the multi-storey, finally finding one after driving around for five minutes looking. Groaning to himself as he supressed a yawn, Derek wished that he had accepted Stiles offer instead of telling the kid to go home to take his medication.

 

It didn’t take him long to buy a new phone, going for the upgraded model of what he had and accepting the store clerks help in setting the device up. He had walked out of the store, with the mobile in his hand, raising an eyebrow when he spotted the clerk had put her contact details into the device. Deleting the name with a roll of his eyes, he shifted to what Stiles had saved his number as. Smiling as he edited it slightly, he quickly messaged the kid.

**Hey Red, new phone same number thankfully. Don’t worry I didn’t get my car wrapped around a tree as you put it. Would it be cheesy to say I kind of miss you? X – D**

**OMG, it toook me a momnt to figur outt wht the hell u weree on abot callng me red. Sory pills not kiked in, bouuuncing off the ceeilng nearrly. :) xx p.s. I see uve put th ekissses back in ur texts – S**

**Go lie down, it sounds like you need to take a nap just to calm down slightly. Text me later? X p.s. yes the kisses have returned, but shhh don’t tell anyone about them ;) - D  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments that you guys have left so far. Thank you also for you opinion on the last chapter, they really helped me figure out my own opinion of how fast these two were going.


	11. Tears and Confessions

Derek had gone home and dropped straight asleep after making sure his new phone was both on silent and that it wasn’t going to vibrate at every single thing. It meant that he never knew when he got a message, but he preferred that than having to go out and buy another phone. It also meant that although he didn’t get woken up from a message, he usually woke up to see one from Stiles; the kid never complained at how long it took him to reply, Derek occasionally replied to a message from the night before first thing in the morning.  The pair quickly fell into elements of a routine; Stiles didn’t return to the bar but instead spent his nights on the phone or texting Derek, whereas Derek spent his evenings much like he had done previously. He still got beaten by Peter, but he often found after the beating that he had a text from Stiles. As far as Derek was aware, the kid still didn’t know who it was who was giving the older man the bruises, but he was thankful that the teen didn’t pester about it, instead generally texting asking if he was okay.  He usually text back that Stiles was being an overbearing girlfriend as a joke, but they both knew that the simple text made Derek feel a lot better.

 

They knew they had to be discreet now, deciding not to be too obvious by spending too much time together every day during school hours. Derek had only caught fleeting glances of the kid in the corridor between lessons, sharing a quick smile before the teen had to run off towards one of his classes. After a few days of this, Stiles crept into the art studio during the lunch period, wiping subconsciously at his cheeks as he tried to sneak up behind where Derek stood at one of the easels.  Slowly edging closer, the kid stood behind the older man casually moving to place a hand on his shoulder; Derek spun around defensively at the touch, grinning widely when he sees who the person behind the hand is.  Derek shifted the hand from his shoulder, moving to grasp it in his own, before pulling the kid towards him, pressing a kiss against his lips after checking no one else was in the room.  Feeling the teen moan against his lips, whilst pressing against him begging for more, Derek pulled away reluctantly with a chaste kiss. Stiles rested his forehead against Derek’s groaning at the loss of the kiss, before pulling away and staring at what the older man had been working on. The canvas on the easel, showed a red figure, so similar to the one Stiles had painted in the art class a few days before, alongside a snarling wolf that was wrapped protectively around the figures legs. The wolf was black, almost blending into the forest background, the eyes a vibrant red that matched the figures hooded jumper and the blood that dripped from its growling mouth.  

 

“It looks good. Is that me?” Stiles asked pointing cautiously to the still wet figure, grinning wider when Derek nodded, pointing next to the wolf; Stiles inquired again, “Is that meant to be you?” He nodded, wrapping his arm around the kids waist as the teen leaned closer wary of the still wet paint, Derek replied, “Yes, I tried to make him look more of a bad wolf, does it meet your standards or am I still a sourwolf?” Derek allowed himself to be pulled into a soft kiss, smiling when the kid did the cheesy eskimo kiss, rubbing their noses together before the kid whispered against his lips, “Still a sourwolf; even more of one now. You should really just stop trying to be a big bad wolf and admit defeat and be a proud sourwolf.” Chuckling softly, Derek kissed the tip of the kids nose before pulling away to gather up the oil paints that laid abandoned on the floor beside the easel, he inquired, “Not that I don’t love it, but what do I owe the pleasure of your company this fine lunchtime my darling Red?”

Concern spread through Derek, when he watched Stiles flinch uncharacteristically; once again abandoning the paint tubes, allowing them to drop back onto the floor, he walked over to the kid pulling him into a comforting hug. “What’s happened kiddo?” Derek asked, running his hand gently through the soft strands of the kid’s hair. Stiles began to cry softly, mumbling into the older man’s shoulder, “It’s just… just something Scott was saying at lunch. He was being a total douche-canoe.” Smiling softly despite himself, Derek joked slightly, “First sourwolf, now douche-canoe. You’re going to have to write me a dictionary one day just so I can understand these words.” Hearing Stiles chuckle slightly, Derek let out a small sigh of relief, squeezing the kid tighter against him. “He was basically being a dickhead,” the kid explained, clutching at the older man’s t-shirt as the tears fell quicker. Kissing the top of his head, Derek whispered, “Tell me what happened Stiles.”

 

_Stiles had sat with Scott and his best friend’s new collection of friends at lunch as was normal now. The hyperactive teen couldn’t help but to think back to when it was just him and Scott who sat at the lunch table; now it was full of people, with Allison sitting next to Scott. Lydia followed Allison, dragging a reluctant Jackson behind her; Danny just followed Jackson, it was sort of an unspoken bond between them. Since the start of the year, the conversation around the table focused on Lydia and Allison organizing double dates which left Jackson rolling his eyes resisting the urge to groan whilst Stiles and Danny sat as third wheels._

_Stiles had decided the night before that today he would tell his best friend that he was kind of gay, well not really 100% gay, but defiantly a per-cent seeing as he was defiantly gay for Derek; but he wasn’t going to tell him the last bit, he didn’t want anybody to know about him and Derek, fearful of how much trouble the older man would get in.  He hoped that he’d be able to pull Scott away from his new status as a popular kid to momentarily talk to him in private, thought Stiles was doubtful that he would be able to achieve this, instead he encouraged himself for the possibility of announcing it in front of Scott’s new batch of friends. He didn’t know why he was scared, he knew that Jackson wouldn’t care, after all his own best friend was gay and besides Stiles knew that Jackson didn’t particularly like him enough to even listen. Danny would be nice, helpful and supportive. Lydia again probably wouldn’t even listen to him, and judging from the way Allison acted most of the time, she wouldn’t really care either. Stiles never heard Scott’s opinion on gay people, he never commented on Danny whether it was because he was scared of Jackson kicking his arse for doing so, or because he had no opinion on the guy’s sexuality._

_He had sat down, looking pleadingly at his normal lunch of curly fries, picking at them, moving them around the plate rather than how he normally ate them, shoving them into his mouth in handfuls. “Scott? Can I talk to you dude?” Stiles asked; dread coursing through his body when he saw all the eyes on the table swivel around to stare at him. The dismay deepened when Scott leaned slightly around Allison, his eyes still staying on the girl, barely acknowledging Stiles as he responded, “Yeh buddy, what’s up?”_

_“I meant can I talk to you, like privately?” Stiles continued, wiping his sweating hands off on his jeans. “Just say it here dude,” Scott insisted, his hand entwining with Allison’s as they shared love-struck looks which made Stiles and the rest of the table roll their eyes. Breathing in, to try to calm his nerves, Stiles rambled quickly wanting to get the announcement over and done with whilst finding the floor suddenly very interesting to look at, “I think, well I don’t think, I know. I mean. I’m gay, well, kinda gay. Slightly gay; definitely slightly. Yeh definitely some liking of guys there, so it’s certainly slightly gay, maybe bisexual.”_

_“Dude, slow down. Breath.” He heard Danny say as he finished his rambling, looking up from the floor Stiles smiled awkwardly at the gay teen, sighing in relief when he received a small smile back. Glancing around, he watched as Allison opened and closed her mouth as if to say something before looking away when she caught Stiles stare. “It was kind of obvious, I mean you’ve asked Danny if he found you attractive quite a few times. Maybe you and Danny could get together and we could all triple.” Lydia suggested, clapping her hands as the table stared at the evil ideas that were so clearly running through her head. Stiles watched as Jackson scowled at the girl for the comment, probably thinking that Danny could do a lot better than him, whilst Danny only blushed stealing a sideways glance at Jackson before finding the interest in the floor just like Stiles had. The hyperactive teen found the courage to look at Scott’s reaction to his rambling announcement, fear setting in again when he saw the frown on the teens face._

_“So what’s made you decided to be a fucking fairy? Or is it who?” Scott asked, the anger evident in his tone, glaring at Danny at the last comment. Stiles gasped in shock, not expecting his friend to react like that, the hyperactive teen hissed at his friend, “Nothing has made me decide. I finally admitted it to myself that is all.”_

_“Admitted it to yourself? I thought you were supposedly head over heels in love with Lydia, or is this you ‘admitting’ that you would have preferred Jackson’s cock all along? You fucking faggot, you shared a bed with me when you stayed over!” Scott thundered, ignoring Allison’s attempts to calm him down. Lydia merely raised an eyebrow at the comment, whilst Jackson glared at Scott albeit a grateful look he sent to Danny when the gay teen put a hand on his arm, ready to hold him back if he snapped. Stuttering slightly, Stiles stopped himself from sobbing, “You’re meant to be my friend. You’ve practically ignored me since you got with Allison, and now I tell you that I like guys you’re just being an arsehole; friends aren’t meant to do that!”_

_“Yeh well, I don’t want to be friends with a fag, so go suck a dick. Then again you’d enjoy that, so just fuck off instead.” Scott spat, ignoring Jackson as Danny was forced to restrain the teen from standing up. “So you’re abandoning over ten years of friendship just cause I like dick?” Stiles sobbed unable to stop himself this time as Scott glared at the hyperactive teen. “Like I said, I don’t want to friends with a fag.” Staring down at his uneaten plate, Stiles shook his head grabbing his bag before running away from the table, paying no attention as he heard Danny calling out after him. He ran towards Derek’s classroom, not knowing where else to go._

With Derek’s arms wrapped around the kid, his shirt now tear-stained and slightly damp from where the teen cried through telling him what had happened. He was fuming, he wanted to go out and beat Scott, make the kid hurt as much as he had hurt Stiles. Derek hated himself for thinking it, especially after what his uncle did to him on a regular basis, but he wanted to hurt the person who had made Stiles cry. Pressing a gently kiss against the crying kids forehead, Derek whispered mainly to himself, “I want to fucking kill him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be updating till at least Monday. I have to move back to the other side of the country as my Easter break is finished. First attempt at driving back to my university. Should be very interesting, as I have never driven on the motorway and I am a awful driver. Wish me luck.
> 
> Either Way you got a slightly longer chapter than usual out of it. I will defiantly aim to update on Monday. Let me know what you think, I'll apologize in advance for the Scott hatred, something about Scott makes me want to hate him. Let's face it though, he is a crappy friend a lot of the time.


	12. Hold Me

Derek felt Stiles pull away from the embrace, despite the comfort that it brought to the kid. He stared into the teens hazel eyes, looking at the heartbreak and despair that filled them instead of the usual joy of life.  Pulling him back against his chest, Derek squeezed the kid tighter when he heard Stiles stutter over his tears, “Don’t. Don’t kill him. He’s still my best friend… I just don’t know why he reacted like this.” Bringing a hand up to stroke Stiles hair, Derek explained, “I would never hurt someone, I’m just so angry that he could do something like this to you kiddo. I don’t know why he responded like that, some people are homophobic because they just don’t understand it, or it was something they learnt from a family member or a friend.”

Hearing Stiles sob harder, Derek instantly wished he had worded it better, thinking it was something he had said that had made the kid cry more.  Cradling the weeping teen in his arms, the older man pressed soft kisses to the kid’s forehead and rubbed Stiles back. Derek didn’t know why Scott had just thrown away years of friendship just because of his friends sexuality; he was grateful that his sister had accepted him, he was even grateful that his uncle didn’t beat him even more for being gay. Derek also knew that it was obviously a huge kick to Stiles courage, having his best friend reject him for being gay. As Stiles slowly stopped crying, Derek pressed another chaste kiss to the kid’s forehead before shifting out of the embrace slightly to stare at the teens face, “Hey, do you want me to take you home?” Stiles nodded his head gratefully, before crashing back against Derek’s firm chest, hands grabbed at the material of his shirt as the kid attached himself to the older man’s front. Hugging him tightly for a moment, Derek reluctantly moved away pulling his car keys out of his pocket. He pressed them softly into Stiles hand, quietly requesting, “Go wait in my car, I’ll go sign tell the front office that you’ve gone home ill.” The kid nodded, hands tightening around the keys, Stiles trembled slightly as his gaze shifted to the floor, “What about my jeep? What about you? I don’t want to get you into trouble.” Derek placed a hand gently on the teens cheek, bringing his head up so that he could stare into the kids eyes, smiling softly he responded, “Don’t worry about it Stiles. I can give you a lift tomorrow morning so you can get it then, and besides I don’t have any lessons this afternoon and even if I did, you would always be more important.”

 

Afternoon lessons had already started when they walked out of the studio, Derek reluctantly letting his hand drop away from the small of Stiles back as he turned to lock the door behind them. The kid self-consciously rubbed at his eyes as they made their way down the corridor, Derek offered a small smile when they separated, he stated, “I’ll only be a few minutes.” The older man sighed when the kid nodded before exiting the building; he hated seeing Stiles upset, looking so vulnerable that it made Derek’s heart ache.  He walked towards the reception, awkwardly acknowledging the old woman sat behind the desk with a slight nod, “I’m here to sign out a student, he’s gone home ill.” The old woman cooed, spinning her chair around to tap away at the computer, asking in a sympathetic tone, “What student is it ducky?”

“Uh, it’s Stiles. Stiles Stilinski. I mean its Ge- Gen-”

“Don’t worry duck, I know who Stiles is. You can stop embarrassing yourself by trying to pronounce the poor chick’s name.” The old woman smiled, tapping away at the keyboard again, “Did the chick want me to contact Sheriff Stilinski to let him know?” Shaking his head, Derek smiled at the woman, thanking her before taking his leave. He walked towards his car, smiling when he spotted the kid curled up in the passenger seat, barely visible through the windshield. Climbing in the driver’s side, throwing his bag in the space at Stiles feet, Derek gently stroked the top of the kids head as he asked, “What’s your address kiddo?” Stiles mumbled the address, his head slowly falling to lean on the window as the older man shifted the car into gear, driving out of the car park and towards the teens house.

 

It didn’t take Derek long to pull up outside Stiles empty house, thankful that there was no police cruiser in the driveway. Killing the engine, he turned to look at the kids dozing form, smiling softly at the relaxed features; he moved to gently shake the teen’s thigh to wake him up. “Hey kiddo, we’re at your house.” Stiles blinked his eyes open, looking around confused for a moment before realizing where he was; the kid grabbed Derek’s hand from where it rested on the gearstick, whispering as he looked down embarrassed, “Can you stay for a while?” The older man smiled awkwardly as he asked, “What about your dad?” Stiles let Derek’s hand drop from his own, instead turning to fiddle with a loose thread on his sleeve, before mumbling, “He’s working another double shift. He won’t be back for hours.” Derek nodded, moving to hold Stiles hand again squeezing it reassuringly; he let it go momentarily as they both moved to get out of the car, instantly reaching for it again when they began to walk towards the front door. Stiles unlocked the door, leading Derek inside, guiding the older man past the kitchen and towards the stairs. Derek followed obligingly, pondering where the kid was taking him; his thoughts were answered when they reached the top of the stairs and the kid led him into what was clearly the teen’s bedroom. He stood awkwardly in the doorway as Stiles let his hand drop to his side as the kid walked to sit on his bed. Derek just watched as the teen laid down, before reaching his hand out towards the older man. Tears that had been held back and kept inside, threatened to spill as Stiles whimpered into the pillow, “Can you… Can you hold me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I managed to get to Wales with both myself and my donkey (car) in one piece. I apologize for not updating yesterday, I did begin writing last night, but I got distracted watching the news instead and my heart goes out to Boston and America in general for what happened.
> 
> The old woman calling people duck, ducky and chick is something that people from the town I live in call each other, it is very weird I know. I moved from London to the town, and it was weird walking into a shop and being called a duck.
> 
> Stiles asking Derek to hold him, is an idea taken from the season 5 ending of Merlin, because that scene where Arthur told Merlin to hold him broke mine and my best friends heart. We spent the rest of Christmas tear-bending and screaming feels. I felt the need to put it in.


	13. Bareback

Derek moved towards Stiles immediately, dropping down behind him on the bed and pulling the trembling body against his chest. They fit together perfectly, Derek curling himself protectively around Stiles, effectively spooning the kid. The teen sobbed into the pillow, grabbing a tight hold on the arms that wrapped around his frame. The tears continued whilst the older man pressed soft kisses to the back of the kid’s neck whilst muttering sweet words into his hair to try and calm the teen down; eventually the sobs were mere whimpers as Stiles exhausted himself from crying. With the harsh sounds of the teens tears no longer filling the room, Stiles was able to hear Derek more clearly as the older man quietly sung into the back of his neck;

“I still hear the songs reminding me of my friend.

Upon the hill across the blue lake,

That's where I had my first heartbreak.

I still remember how it all changed.

My father said,

"Don't you worry, don't you worry, child.

See heaven's got a plan for you.

Don't you worry, don't you worry now”

 

Stiles chuckled slightly, the sound appearing odd after the tears, “I hate to say this, but you really can’t sing Derek.” The older man laughed loudly at the comment, halting his singing by momentarily letting his lips press firmly against the back of Stiles neck instead of the constant ghosting over that had been occurring as he sung; “I know I can’t kiddo, but that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t.” Stiles smiled, snuggling backwards which effectively caused him to wriggle against Derek, blushing when he heard the older man groan at the movement, “Sorry.” Derek didn’t respond immediately, only moving his hand from where they were wrapped protectively around the kids chest; he shifted them to rest lightly against the teens hips before softly mumbling against Stiles ear, “It’s fine.”

Stiles blushed as he felt the hardening bulge pressing against the small of his back; the teen didn’t know how to react knowing that it was he who had caused the reaction in the older man. “Derek?”

“Hmm…”

Stiles gulped slightly, scared of what answers his question would bring, “What are we?” The room fell back into silence as the teen waited for the response. Derek rubbed gently at the kid’s hip with his thumb as he answered the question with a question, “What do you want us to be?” Derek tried not to chuckle when the teen practically growled at his response, “That’s not fair! And you know it’s not!” The older man pressed a soft kiss to the back of the kid’s neck again, whispering his answer to the first question against the skin, “I would like you to skip the future part, and be my boyfriend now.” Derek waited patiently for the teen’s response; his thumb still drew patterns on the kid’s hip having worked his way unconsciously to the small section of skin that was on view between the teen’s jeans and shirt. He hoped that he hadn’t just scared the kid off with being blunt, but Derek merely smiled as Stiles mumbled only just audible, “I’d like that too.”  The smile only increased when Stiles twisted his head back, to gently kiss Derek’s lips. The older man grinned nuzzling at the kids cheek when their lips separated, and then nuzzling the back of the kids neck as Stiles turned his head back around. Derek relaxed into the warm comfort of the embrace and the bed, slowly allowing his eyes to fall closed, clutching the teen too him as they both dropped into a calming sleep.

 

Derek woke to find the room darkened, no longer lit up from the sunlight that had streamed through the kids open blinds. He looked around confused, wondering what had woken him from the pleasant sleep, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and to realize that his phone in his pocket was buzzing discreetly to the world. Groaning as he reluctantly shifted out of the embrace, Derek smiled as he saw Stiles blindly try to pull him back to spooning him before the kid gave up flailed and snuggled back into the pillow still fast asleep. Looking at his phone to see why it buzzed, Derek gulped slightly as he saw the clock on the mobile reading out that it was past nine in the evening. Remembering his uncles warning a few weeks ago, about being back before five, Derek held his breath as he opened up the text message, ignoring the small notice saying he had a missed call. He let out the breath, sighing instead in relief when he read the message from Peter; ‘I’ve got business out of town. I’ll be back Monday. Don’t think that I’ll have forgotten that you didn’t get back before 5.’ 

Derek knew that his uncle was fuming despite the lack of anger in the text, he groaned slightly knowing what was probably going to happen on Monday; The beatings were always worse if he did something that went against one of Peter’s orders. “What’s wrong Sourwolf?” Stiles asked mumbling as he flipped over moving to half-lay on Derek’s chest, flailing slightly at the small movement, making it apparent to the older man that the kid had only just woken up. Smiling softly down at the kid and the nickname, Derek ignored the text not bothering to reply instead just dropping his phone down next to them on the bed. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it kiddo,” he whispered looking around the room momentarily before continuing, “It’s late, I should go.”

 

Stiles latched onto Derek as the older man started to shift into a sitting position, effectively attempting to keep them both lying on the bed, the kid pleaded into the side of Derek’s neck, “Don’t go. Please.” Groaning slightly, Derek really didn’t want to leave the kid, having the teen in his arms felt so comfortable and right, he inquired trying to prove a point that he should probably leave, “What about your dad? I hardly doubt he’d be impressed if he found us like this.” The teen pushed himself up to lean slightly over the other man, looking Derek in the eyes when Stiles remarked, “He’s always working, he’s hardly ever home at the moment, I doubt he’ll be back till tomorrow afternoon at the earliest anyways. Besides it’s not like we’re naked and going at it bareback.” Derek moaned at the comment, images flashing through his head of him and Stiles rolling naked amongst the sheets, hands and lips wondering everywhere, thrusting as the room filled with their moans and the sounds of skin and sex. “Jesus Stiles. Did you have to say that, ah fuck,” Derek groaned, squeezing his eyes shut trying to will the images out of his mind, and trying to control the suddenly unbearable tightness in his trousers. When his eyes opened, he saw Stiles leaning over looking smiling cheekily, “Sorry.”

Wrapping his hand around the back of the kids neck, Derek pulled him down into a deep kiss, groaning as his tongue fought against Stiles, exploring each other’s mouths. “I swear you don’t realize how much you affect me with what you say,” Derek complained. Stiles grinned widely, “Maybe I do realize, and just like causing you to react like that.” Growling half-heartedly at him, Derek pulled the kid back down to curl into his chest, rolling his eyes slightly when he heard the teen laugh “Does this mean you’re staying?” Kissing the kids forehead, Derek mumbled a soft ‘yes’ before smiling at the ceiling.  Stiles grinned mischievously to himself as his mind replayed the older man’s earlier reaction, he chimed, “Does this mean we’re going to be having that crazy bareback sex now then.”

“Stiles.” Derek warned, the smile on his face ruining the effect of the slightly disapproving tone that had been in his voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Derek singing Don't You Worry Child was an idea that came from this amazing video here- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PXMMMGjDXpo . It had me tear-bending when I first watched it and writing this just found a new video which I am currently tear-bending too. Make nice videos people!! :P They need to get Derek and Stiles together in Season3 or else I will just go and weep in a corner and refuse to believe the canon.
> 
> Sorry for the slow update, I have to write two essays and I'm slowly putting them off, by doing no work what so ever. Bad idea, but the essays are pure wank. Don't ever do Art Degrees, art history is evil.
> 
> By the way, I am so sorry for the chapter title. I had too. I just had too. I had a lovely sweet one all thought up, and then my brain decided to make the bareback comment. Sex vs Sweet, I'm afraid sex wins most times.


	14. Your Memory

Sunlight flickered through the blinds on the window, casting bright strips of light onto the bed. Derek blinked awake, groaning slightly as the sun shone into his eyes; blinking away the light glare, he momentarily looked around at his surroundings in confusion before remembering that Stiles had asked him to stay the night before. Looking down at his chest, Derek smiled at the sight of the still sleeping teen that was using his abdomen as a pillow. He was entranced by the sight of Stiles, the innocent smile that graced the relaxed face of the kid, with no traces of the emotional pain of yesterday being visible. Smiling down, Derek moved his hand to softly stroke the soft strands of the kid’s hair, chuckling softly as the teen unconsciously attempted to bat his hand away. Ignoring the kids batting hand, Derek continued stroking the silky strands, laughing when Stiles grumbled awake and placed a well-aimed slap to the older man’s forearm. “You’re clearly not a morning person darling,” Derek joked, letting out a howl of laughter as Stiles slapped his shoulder in mock-aggravation.

 

“Well it’s not nice to wake someone up sourwolf, especially if they were having a nice dream.” Stiles groaned, wiping his face where he had been drooling slightly onto the older man’s shirt with an evil grin.  “Now whose being a sourwolf! I take back what I said earlier as well, you’re not a darling, you’re an arse. I’m going to have to borrow a shirt now.” Derek joked, ignoring the slobbery mess that was now on the front of his top as he sat up slightly, ignoring the teens moan at being moved, and pulled the shirt off over his head. Derek fell back onto the bed as he threw the shirt onto the floor, grinning as Stiles moved his head back to rest against his bare chest.  

“That’s cheating, and so unfair. I mean how is it even possible for someone to look as good as you! You’re just muscle, you’re like a walking talking example of Photoshop, cause there is no other way for anyone to look that good. Jeez, I feel inadequate now, I mean, it’s not like I’m not skinny, but I’m not exactly this either. Are you sure you don’t want to go find a model instead cause-”

Derek shut the teen up mid ramble, by gently pulling the kid’s head up from where it was resting against his chest, and kissing him. Stiles looked as if he was about to complain about his rant being interrupted, before relaxing into the kiss, moaning as he felt Derek’s tongue snake across his bottom lip, begging for entrance. The teen groaned as the older man pulled away from the kiss, Derek whispered against the kids lips with a soft chuckle, “Go take your Adderall Stiles, it might stop you talking crap.” Stiles stuck his tongue out in response, but willing pulled away from the embrace, falling out of the bed at an impromptu flail. Derek’s laugh filled the room as he watched the teen stumble out of the bedroom door and through the door on the opposite side of the corridor. Derek waited until Stiles closed the door behind him, before grabbing at the corners of the duvet, cocooning himself in the warm covers as he curled himself into a comfortable position.

 

When Stiles exited the bathroom, the teen couldn’t help but laugh as he saw that Derek had snuggled himself under the covers. He tried to walk quietly towards the bed, failing as he tripped slightly over an abandoned book. When he reached the bed, Stiles held back a laugh as he launched himself forwards, jumping on top of where Derek laid underneath the duvet. Straddling the older man’s hips, Stiles playfully pulled the covers away from the man, giggling when he heard Derek’s whines of protest. Diverting the duvet from his top half, Stiles reached down and tickled at Derek’s side, pouting when it caused little reaction. Derek smiled at the teen’s attempts, sticking his tongue out at the kid before shifting his weight and flipping their positions. The teen let out a gasp in shock, gulping as he looked into Derek’s predatory eyes; Derek smirked as his fingers ran up and down Stiles sides before he began to fiendishly tickle the younger man. Stiles howled with laughter, as he attempted to bat the hands away, “Stop it! Derek, stop. Oh god, you’re gonna make me wet myself!” Halting the tickling, Derek leaned down and kissed Stiles with a soft chuckle, “I’ll stop. I don’t think we want to experiment with water-sports just yet kiddo.” Stiles frowned slightly in confusion, as he inquired, “Water-sports? What’s sailing and stuff got to do with me laughing so much that I might pee?”

 

Derek bit back a laugh, as his head dropped to rest on the teen’s shoulder, “I’m not explaining this one. Come one up you get, you’re not spending the day in bed.” Shifting up off of Stiles, the older man turned his back to the bed and stretched, flinching slightly when he felt a hand press into the centre of his back in the middle of his tattoo. “What does this stand for?” The teen asked curiously, fingers trailing along the swirls. Looking down at the floor, Derek replied tonelessly, “It stands for a lot. It stands for me, my sister and my uncle because we were the only ones who survived. It also stands for my mother, my father, and my little brother. He was only five when the fire happened. He had been home ill.” He was grateful that he felt Stiles wrap his arms around him, the hands clasped together against his chest, the embrace offering more comfort than any word could.

Quickly wiping away a stray tear that had formed, Derek patted the teen’s hands signalling the kid that he could let go, before remarking with a small smile, “Thanks darling. Do you mind if I borrow a shirt by the way, seeing as you used mine to drool on last night.” Stiles bounced in front of him, pink cheeks and a murmured apology about drooling, and an unspoken apology for unconsciously bringing up bad memories, as he pecked the older man’s lips. The teen then rushed towards his chest of drawers, gulping as he looked through his shirts knowing that none would probably fit. Grabbing at one that appeared slightly larger than the others he handed it over to the older man, pouting slightly as he watched Derek put it on, effectively covering up the sight of his muscled chest.

“Do you have anything slightly bigger?” Derek asked smiling awkwardly at just how small the t-shirt was; it barely fit across his shoulders. Stiles examined the older man with a blush before jumping back towards the drawers, the contents being thrown onto the floor as he attempted to find something bigger. Stiles pulled the last shirt from the drawer, examining it with a deep intake of breath when he recognized the shirt; it was an old sleep shirt he used when he was a child, his mother had brought it him along with a bundle of other items when they had gone to Disney land when they first found out she was ill. He had all but forgotten about its existence, having thought it had been lost when he had gone on camp once.  Running his fingers over the soft fabric, Stiles smiled to himself as he handed the shirt over to Derek, “This should fit. Sorry about it being Mickey Mouse, my mum brought it me when we had gone to Disneyland years ago.” The teen watched as Derek’s face contorted into an expression of sympathy, “Stiles, I can’t. Not if your mum brought this for you.” Stiles smiled up into Derek’s eyes, as he replied, “It’s just a shirt Derek and it’s the only one that will fit you, and also I think she’d have liked you despite you being so old,” sticking his tongue out, Stiles gathered up some clothes that were thrown onto the floor, the teen kissed Derek again before chuckling, “Besides the sight of a sourwolf like you in a Mickey Mouse shirt is too funny an opportunity to miss.” Derek watched as Stiles skidded out of the room and into the bathroom, dropping a sock half way. Sitting down onto the bed, he examined the Disney shirt in his hands, making a promise to be careful with the memory-filled top as he pulled it over his head with a soft smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait for the update, I hate to write 5000 words worth of essays, about pure bullshit as well. One essays was effectivelly about a fraud artist, and the other was basically about this guy who made transgender porn scultpures and head sculptures out of his own blood and in one case faeces.  
> The fraud essay is about spirit photographer- William Mumler  
> The other essay was basically about this sculptor - Marc Quinn. 
> 
> I will be updating more regularly now as I only have a week left at this semester of university and that week is basically finish off some paintings and organize my portfolio.
> 
> I apologize for the feels. I'm sobbing in the corner practically from what I just wrote.
> 
> Title is from the song Losing Your Memory by Ryan Star.


	15. Conversations

Stiles parked his jeep in his usual spot outside his house, smiling to himself as he jumped out of the vehicle, patting at the fading paint as he closed the door with a loud slam. The smile grew wider when his mind wondered back to earlier when Derek had driven him to a diner on the very edge of town for breakfast before they went to collect his car.

 Sat in the little booth, far enough away from the centre of town to know that they wouldn’t be seen by anyone from Beacon Hills High School, they relaxed in each other’s company. They had chatted and chuckled through mouthfuls of pancakes, with only a minor disagreement when it came to paying the bill, when Derek refused to let Stiles pay towards it. The older man removed the teens pout with a quick kiss after checking that there was no-one that he recognized around; Stiles perked up immediately, pouting again when the older man pulled away in an attempt to get more kisses. Derek had rolled his eyes at the kid when they had left the diner, but willingly pressed another kiss against the teen’s lips, smirking at Stiles moan when the kiss deepened. They had driven towards the school, with Derek smiling widely as Stiles fiddled with his hand, interlocking their fingers over the gearstick.

Stiles had been reluctant to go when they reached the school, wanting to spend more time with the older man. He had pouted as soon as they parked up in the empty lot next to the blue jeep. “Please don’t pout like that Red. We could hang out tomorrow, head over to the next town, and go to the cinema, maybe for some food afterwards?” Derek suggested smirking as the teen beamed nodding his head erratically at the idea. “Curly fries! We have to go for curly fries! Oh the golden deliciousness!” Stiles marvelled, before smiling awkwardly, blushing when he pressed a soft kiss to Derek’s cheek, mumbling against the stubbled skin, “Tomorrow sounds nice, do you want to text me details later on?” The older man nodded, pulling the teen into a final kiss before Stiles smiled, jumping out of the Camaro and walking towards his own car.

 

Walking through his front door, Stiles was surprised to see his dad standing in the kitchen waiting for him. “Yo dad didn’t see your car out there,” the teen stated, having not seen the sheriff’s car parked on the drive when he had left with Derek that morning nor when he had parked up. He watched as his dad, shrugged at the comment, his hands tightening around the cup of coffee that he was holding. “Hey kid, yeh I put it in the garage when I came in from my shift,” the older man replied, setting the cup down before digging through the pile of mail on the counter to keep himself momentarily busy. “Fair does, what time did you get home, I mean what time did your shift end?” Stiles asked shifting awkwardly on his feet. The teen watched as his father shrugged again before he replied, “I got back in around five in the morning.”

 

Stiles tensed, panic coursing through his body and his mind screamed in shock. If his dad had gotten in at five in the morning, it meant he would have seen that his car wasn’t in its usual spot on the drive and considering that his dad had parked in the garage, he couldn’t use the excuse that he’d parked it in there. It also meant he had seen Derek’s car parked on the side of the road. ‘Oh god’ Stiles mentally panicked more, his dad would have thought that Stiles would have snuck out, his dad would have checked in his room; the older man tended to check his room most nights, mainly making sure that the teen wasn’t sat at the computer at odd times in the morning. The fear worsened when Stiles realized, that if his dad had checked his room, he would have seen him in bed with Derek.

 

“Are you going to tell me whose car that was? The one that was parked outside out house last night?” The older man questioned, folding his arms against his chest as he stared his panicking son in the eye. Stiles gulped before he stammered, “It was a friends.” The teen watched as his father snorted slightly in response, the smile on his face making the kid feel uneasy.

 “Was this the same friend who was in your bed with you this morning?” The sheriff asked, smirking when he watched his son blush crimson, and begin opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish. Continuing, his dad commented with a small chuckle at his son’s reactions, “Looks a little old to be a friend from your year…  I’m going to be nice and let you be coy about this, and pretend that whoever it was is from the year above.” The awkward and slightly shamed nod that his son gave at the comment confirmed to the older man that whoever had been in the teen’s bed that morning was not in the same year or the year above.

Deciding to be tactful and not inquire too much straight away, the sheriff moved to pat Stiles on the shoulder, grateful that the teen raised his head to make eye contact, he asked with concern, “Do we need to have a talk about anything at all? A sex talk?” Stiles gawked at his father, stammering a ‘no’, whilst wishing that the ground would open up and swallow him down. The sheriff watched as the teen’s blush increased at the no; knowing that his son was lying to him slightly he just sighed stating, “If your ‘friend’ is going to be staying over again, I want to meet him first Stiles.”

 

Stiles blushed more, sensing a break in the conversation; he made a dash towards the stairs. He got half-way up them when he heard his dad shout after him, “Stiles. You know I love you kid, gay or straight.” He continued running up them tripping up them slightly in fear of another embarrassing conversation if he stopped trying to escape. Running into his room, the teen dropped onto the bed, smiling as he inhaled the lingering smell of Derek on the sheets.

The teen groaned awake an hour later, realizing that he must have fallen asleep whilst enjoying the smell of Derek that was still on his sheets, though fainter now. Glancing around his room, making sure nothing had changed since he had fell asleep, Stiles was quick to notice a note the was taped to the top of his computer screen. Rolling awkwardly out of bed, flailing slightly as his feet touched the floor, he made his way over to the screen. Picking up the note, Stiles stared in confusion at the words written in his father’s handwriting, ‘I’ve brought you something, it’s in your sock drawer. Please use them and be safe.’ A mixture of curiosity and confusion led the teen to the sock drawer, with a muttered, “Why would he leave something with my socks?” Pulling open the drawer, Stiles instantly slammed it shut again at the sight. He cautiously eased it open slowly, looking in fear at the contents, slowly pulling out the offending items and dropping them on the floor next to him.

 

“Dad why the hell have you put condoms and lube in my sock drawer!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bit with the condoms at the end is what occurred to one of my lovely friends, she had come back from school and her mum just went 'I've left you something in your sock drawer', curiosity got her as she thought that was an odd place to leave something and she found her mum had left a load of condoms in her drawer. I do beleive she has never used them, as she and her partner waited till they were married to have sex and the fact that she's now pregnant doesn't really mean they practiced the safe sex element.
> 
> But yes, so many things have distracted me when I was writing this chapter today. Firstly I got told that my sister had been in hospital overnight, so i was left going oh shit should i drive 5 hours to go home. I then got a text saying oh its fine she's out now. Little shit.
> 
> Secondly, i had to amuse my lovely friend with the state of my kitchen sink, uni accommodation is rank. People are so unsanitary.
> 
> Thirdly, I had amusement when the same friend honestly thought MPreg existed, between two males, not just a FTM transgender person. I was howling.


	16. French Girls

Their date on Sunday passed without any mention of Stiles dad seeing them whilst they had slept, nor any mention of the surprise gift that he had left for Stiles in his drawer. Instead the pair arranged to meet at the diner that they had breakfast at the previous day. They left Stiles jeep in the diner’s car park, the couple driving in the Camaro to the next town over. Derek drove them to the cinema complex in the town, spending about thirty minutes sat in the car shamelessly making out with the teen in the front seat, before finally making their way into the building. They ended up going to see the first film which was available; they didn’t pay attention to the film, instead playfully continuing the kisses that had occurred in the car. Derek had no fear of being caught by someone who knew them; instead he merely smiled when he overheard someone tutting or commenting about their public displays affection. They fell out of the cinema in chuckles when the film ended, laughing more as people rolled their eyes at the couple with small smiles. Derek had drove them both back to the Beacon Hills smiling as he tried to stop Stiles from leaning across the gearstick to press chaste kisses against the older man’s face. He let out a yelp when the teen attempted to pull him into a full kiss, screaming with laughter, “I’m driving seventy miles per hour, and you want to snog? We’d end up wrapped around a tree!”

 

Monday lunchtime, Derek looked up from the paperwork on his desk, smiling as he saw the hyperactive teen walking through the classroom door. Jumping away from the table, the older man moved happily towards the door, ignoring the way that the teen glared slightly at the small cut that had appeared on Derek’s cheek since the day before. “What do I owe the pleasure of your company red?” Derek inquired as he wrapped his arms around the younger boy’s waist, pulling him into a tight embrace, smiling as he nuzzled into the side of Stiles neck. The teen grinned at the teacher’s actions, smirking in response, “Is it okay if I sit in here for lunch?” Derek nodded in reply, murmuring an apology, as he informed the hyperactive teen, “Yes you can, be warned though I have a student coming in to catch up on some work.”

Stiles sighed as he fell into the seat behind Derek’s desk, staring at the random papers on the wooden surface, leaning into the touch when the older man pressed a hand to the back of the teen’s neck. Derek observed the younger boy momentarily, before asking concerned, “Where’s your lunch kiddo?” Stiles twitched in the chair, flailing slightly sending a piece of paper flying to the floor. Derek picked the stay paper up with a small roll of his eyes and a smile, placing it back where it belonged, before moving to rest his hand on the back of the teen’s neck as he waited for the younger man to reply. “I didn’t want to face Scott in the cafeteria, so I didn’t get anything,” the teen mumbled awkwardly, thankful when Derek pulled him forwards gently with the hand that was resting on the back of his neck. The soft kiss that followed made Stiles grin as the older man pulled away carefully, pressing a similar peck to the top of the teen’s head as Derek whispered gently, “Wait here, I’ll go grab some food for you red.” Derek left the room with a small grin, offering a nod in greeting to the student who was walking towards his classroom door, telling her to just go and wait inside; the older man walked towards the cafeteria to get a plate of curly fries for Stiles lunch.

 

The student watched him walk away, before cautiously opening the door, surprised to see Stiles sat waiting impatiently at Mr Hales desk. Stiles looked up in confusion at the sound of the door opening, slightly shocked to see a blonde girl whom he shared a few classes with standing in the entrance. He had noticed that she hadn’t been in school for a few weeks, but hadn’t thought much of it. Stiles smiled pleasantly as he stated stammering slightly, “Derek… Crap I meant Mr Hales just gone to get something. He’ll be back in a minute Erica.” A blush filled the male teen’s cheeks at his screw up, mentally hitting himself for saying Derek, whilst a mild look on intrigue filled Erica’s as the female wondered why Stiles so freely used the teacher’s name.

 The blonde cast aside her thoughts as she fiddled awkwardly with the ends of her hair, before pointing boldly at Stiles shirt, breaking the ice as she smirked, “Batman. Batman rocks!” The male teen nodded enthusiastically as he jumped out of the chair to high five the other teen, cheering “It totally is. I’m Stiles by the way, if you didn’t know.” Erica chuckled softly, rolling her eyes as she replied teasingly, “I know who you are Stiles. We have biology together remember; with the amount of times Harris gives you detention, how can anyone not know your name.” Stiles stuck his tongue out in a childish response, grinning widely as he sat down once more at Derek’s desk, “So Batman huh?”

 

Derek walked back towards his classroom, armed with a plate full of curly fries; he was sure that the server had given him more than a single portion but he just smiled and thanked them. His smile shifted to a glare when he caught sight of Scott sat across the cafeteria, he was both thankful and annoyed that the boy was not in any of his lessons, instead he was taught by the other art teacher at Beacon Hills High School. He wanted to punish the teen, but knew that if he did it would look suspicious. Opening the door to his room, the older man was stunned when he walked into a playful argument of Marvel versus DC. Both teens continued their discussion, Derek resisted the urge to kiss Stiles as the male teen grinned widely when the plate of fries was placed on the desk in front of him.

Erica glanced between the pair, wondering what was going on between the two males. The blonde female watched the pair’s interactions as she also pondered over their relationship, wondering if it was more than just platonic. She watched as Derek raised his hand as if about to rest it against the back of Stiles neck, before reconsidering and letting it drop back against his side. Erica smirked when Mr Hale spun around obviously remembering her presence, as the older man politely remarked, “You’re looking a lot better Erica. Don’t believe what people say, you look a lot healthier when you’re taking your medication, so I hope that you continue taking them.” The blonde female blushed, nodding in embarrassment at the teacher. Erica admired how well the older man was able to read people; he knew when people were lying and when people felt uncomfortable about something.

Derek was aware of Erica’s intrigued eyes watching his and Stiles movement; he was trying not to draw attention to them, but he also knew that he was probably failing at hiding what was going on between himself and the male teen.  He smiled down at where the hyperactive teen was wolfing down the plate of curly fries, quickly pinching a single fry of the boy’s face. Erica watched as Derek burst into laughter when Stiles slapped his hand away; the male teen glaring up at the older man with a pout. Quickly chewing the fry, Derek winked at the teen after making sure that Erica was unable to see the action.

 

The older man moved to stand in the middle of the circle of easel’s before calling the blonde teen over, “Okay Erica, to catch up on some of your work, I would like you to draw me. To maintain our student/teacher relationship and not make it awkward, you will be drawing me fully clothed; I think I’d get arrested if I told you to draw me nude.” Derek chuckled awkwardly, as he watched Stiles out of the corner of his eye blush at the comment. Smirking at the male teen, the teacher turned back to where Erica was setting up at an easel, jokingly commenting, “We could have made Stiles sit for you, but I doubt he would have stayed still for very long.”

Stiles looked up , shouting through the mouthful of curly fries, “You’re not drawing me like one of your French girls!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait between the updates, I have finished my term of university and now have five months off from my studies so I aim to update a lot more often. 
> 
> The french girls comment had to be made, maybe eventually Derek will draw Stiles like one of his french girls. That would be an interesting scene.


	17. Scar

After that lunch Stiles and Erica became fast friends; Stiles slowly getting over the pain of Scott’s abandonment. Derek often walked into his classroom after grabbing his lunch to find the pair sat at his desk debating about comic books. The blonde girl did not question the quantity of time that the hyperactive teen spent with the older man, instead just raising an eyebrow at the bright smile that automatically filled Stiles face whenever he saw the art teacher. Though the lunch breaks were usually spent in the studio acting like nothing more than a friendly teacher towards Stiles and Erica, Derek often found himself alone with the hyperactive teen as soon as lessons finished for the day.

 

With the last student walking out the studio door, Stiles would appear walking in and locking the door straight behind him. Discretion was ignored when Derek would often meet Stiles half way, pulling the younger man against his muscular chest in a fury of kisses. The kisses led to one straddling the other on top of the desk; Stiles frequently sitting astride the older man hugging Derek’s hips with his knees. The teen would try to push further with simple touches, trying to get more than just heated kisses out of the older man. Derek moaned when he felt Stiles hand drifting down his chest, small hands lingering playfully at the top of his belt; he reluctantly pushed them aside when he felt the younger man attempt to fight against the leather buckle. Stiles whined impatiently, growling in acute displeasure when the older man whispered, ‘We need to slow it down kiddo.’ The strict above the belt policy that Derek had silently put in place, didn’t stop Stiles attempting; when the younger man hands were pulled away from the top of Derek’s trousers, they instead shifted to pull off the older man’s shirt.

Their only near miss happened when they had ended up staying in the studio after school for longer than they normally would. They had been in the middle of a heavy make-out session, Derek had effectively pinned Stiles on the hard floor with his upper-body. The older man was running his hand mischievously up and down the hyperactive teen’s chest, his fingers drifting further and further down the younger man’s body. Derek drew in a shaky breath; he was popping the top button of Stiles trousers when he heard it. Footsteps edged closer to the classroom door, before a short series of hard knocks on the door echoed throughout the room. Derek pounced away from where they both lay on the floor, shouting through the locked door that the room was still occupied. Stiles remained silent, pressing a gentle hand reassuringly on Derek’s bare shoulder as the older man began to panic. The teen’s fingers had ghosted softly over old thin scars as the older man slowly stopped freaking out over nearly being caught in such a scandalous position. The fear and shock that had coursed through Derek’s body throughout the encounter, faded into a fit of quiet giggles as the shock simmered. Pressing a firm kiss against Stiles lips, Derek whispered through his laugh, “We should stop. We’re not going to though.”

 

It was mid-October when Derek found himself lying on the floor, struggling for breath. The pain had the man practically unable to move, whilst his uncle dropped his weapon to the floor, chuckling evilly as it splashed in the pool of blood that was slowly forming around the younger man. Pressing a final kick to his side, Peters cackling laughter filled the air as he walked out the house, slamming the door loudly behind him. With the closing of the door Derek rolled onto his side, screaming in pain when he put pressure on one of his more severe wounds. Whimpering, Derek dragged himself across his bedroom floor, grabbing at where his phone laid forgotten on his desk. Phoning the contact that he needed, Derek let out a sigh of relief which mixed into the gasp of pain as he heard Stiles confused voice answer, “Stiles! Stiles, is your dad working tonight?” The older man could sense how much more confused the teenager was becoming, as Stiles stammered, “Yes… Derek what’s wrong, you’re scaring me dude.”

Not replying Derek hung up the phone, throwing it onto the bed where his work bag laid forgotten. Crawling towards his closet, the older man whimpered loudly as he forced himself into a standing position, wobbling as his legs tried to give out underneath him. Supporting himself against the wall, Derek pulled aimlessly at a handful of clothes, grabbing at a bag that lay on the floor abandoned from when they had originally moved into the house. Wincing as he limped back towards the bed, Derek forced the items into the bag, not caring about what was being thrown into rucksack. Hastily pulling a shirt over his head, he resisted the urge to cry out as his wounds stretched, ached and resumed bleeding. The hot trickle of blood falling in streams down his back immediately soaked into the cotton fabric, staining it a vibrant red. Grabbing at his bags, Derek exclaimed as one of them fell against his throbbing hip. He stared down at the object that was the cause for the severe beating, the item that made his uncle freak out, forcing Derek to fall to the ground as the object fell on the bed. Clutching it to his chest, warily trying not to get blood on it, Derek limped out of his house wanting to get away before his uncle returned.

 

Stiles had been sat staring at his phone in confusion ever since Derek’s bizarre phone call. The hyperactive teen flailed in surprise when he heard the shrill ring of the doorbell echo throughout the house. Bouncing off of the couch, the teen slowly edged towards the front door; cautiously opening it, Stiles was shocked to see Derek leaning breathlessly against the door frame looking like he was ready to collapse. In the porch light, Stiles gasped as he looked at the man with a fast forming black eye; glancing at the soft toy that the older man clutched helplessly to his chest. “Please say you didn’t drive like this!” Stiles gulped as he spotted the bright red stains that were still spreading across Derek’s white top. The older man chuckled weakly, nodding his head as he leaned further against the door frame, no longer being fully able to support all his weight. 

“Why didn’t you go to the hospital! You need a hospital Derek! Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital now. Please Derek, you need a doctor.” Stiles exclaimed in fear, as he watched the older man shake his head. Terror filled the teen as he watched Derek stumble slightly, only just catching himself by leaning completely against the wall.

“No. No Doctors. No hospitals.” Derek wheezed breathlessly, grateful when Stiles nervously nodded moving to guide the injured man inside the house. “Please at least tell me who is doing this to you Derek. Is it gangs, have I gotten involved with a drug dealer or something. Are you a criminal, are you in trouble with someone!” Stiles cried as he manoeuvred the older man towards the stairs, knowing that his father had left a first aid kit in the teen’s bathroom. The hyperactive teen was suddenly extremely grateful that his father over-estimated how often Stiles got himself injured playing lacrosse. “It’s none of them Stiles, I will tell you. Just not now,” the older man murmured taking a deep inhale of breath as the wound on his hip protested against the stairs. Dropping Derek down onto the closed lid of the toilet, Stiles snapped as he searched for the first aid kit, “When will you tell me, when whoever did this puts you in hospital!”

 

Stiles felt terrible for snapping as soon as he said it, watching as Derek winced at the thought. Pressing a comforting kiss in the middle of the older man’s forehead, Stiles mumbled against the bruised flesh, “I’m sorry. I’m just scared.” Derek nodded pulling the teen down into a reassuring kiss, allowing Stiles to gently pull the soft toy out of his slowly loosening grasp. Knowing that the object obviously meant something important to the older man, the teen place it carefully on the bathroom countertop.  With the soft toy no longer hiding the man’s clothed chest, Stiles was able to see just how much the top had become stained from the older man’s blood.  “Derek I need you to remove your shirt for me.”

The older man nodded, trying to hide a whimper as the fabric pulled at the cuts on his back, having stuck to the open wounds during the drive over. Discarding it on the bathroom floor, Stiles let out a gasp as he saw the extent of the wounds. On the man’s chest were a few shallow long and straight cuts, clearly done by someone teasing the skin with a sharp knife that was applied with enough pressure to cause a superficial wound whilst producing heavy bleeding. The cuts appeared along Derek’s sides, curving around to the completely different set of wounds on the older man’s back. The skin was raised in welts surrounding large sections of skin which had been broken with force, contrasting rapidly against the cleanly sliced skin on the front of the mans.  The wounds on the front were produced with a playful intent, for the attacker’s entertainment. The injuries on Derek’s back were made with the loss of control; in a blind rage, the attacker had clearly lost his control over the situation, letting his weapon have the control in the attack, biting deeply into the skin.

Stiles grabbed an antiseptic wipe, slowly wiping around each wound on the older man’s back, whispering into the quiet room, “What caused these?” Derek took a deep inhale of breath, growling slightly at the sting of the alcohol in the antiseptic, as he mumbled ashamed, “I don’t know, I just know he kept hitting me continuously.” Stiles pressed a small kiss in between the older man’s shoulder blades as he pressed gauze and padding over the deep wounds, whispering against the battered skin, “These are going to scar.”

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry, do not come after my blood for this chapter. :P
> 
> Trying to get research for Derek's wounds had led to some very interesting searches, I sincerely hope that no one ever goes through my internet history. It would honestly be one of my worst nightmares if I had to explain to my parents that No i am not into belting, I was using it for research on my fanfic. I don't know which bit would be more awkward, the belting part or the fanfic part. Hmmm.


	18. His Name Is...

Stiles finished wrapping the wounds on his back, moving gently down the older man’s torso to the gashes; he used his limited knowledge of first aid to determine how bad the cuts were, hoping that none of them required stitches. Running his fingers softly down Derek’s ribs, eyeing his body checking that there wasn’t anything that he had accidently missed, Stiles spotted the red tinge that was seeping through the older man’s black jeans. The hyperactive teen ghosted his palm gently across the stained spot on the man’s hip, frowning at the wince that Derek let out.  Not bothering to comment, Stiles popped the button on the injured man’s trousers ignoring the string of complaints that filled the room at the act. “Stiles this really isn’t the time,” Derek hissed squirming away from the teen’s hands.

“Derek shut up, you’re bloody hurt. I am not trying to jump you right now,” Stiles retaliated, biting back the frustration that was threatening to become clear to the room. Derek rested a hand gently against the teens cheek, muttering embarrassed, “I’m sorry. It’s just been a rough day.” The teen nodded, feeling the momentary rage instantly fading as he leaned up to press a chaste kiss against the older man’s lips, smiling against them, “I know… I am finally getting into your pants though.”

Derek rolled his eyes, allowing the teen to fully remove the blood stained jeans ignoring the slight awkwardness of being sat practically naked, wincing when they both saw the state of his hip. His uncle had clearly lost interest in his usual style of beating and had sadistically tried to skin a small area on Derek’s hip. Layers of skin had been peeled back, done with the thought of torture in his uncle’s mind, instead of the usual pent up aggression.  Inspecting it, Derek let out a sigh of relief, mentally thanking his uncle for doing it cleanly, sparing Stiles from the terror of having to cut away the damaged skin. The older man watched as the teen visibly paled even more at the sight, resting a hand on the kids short stubbled hair before stating, “Just put a pad on it then bandage around it. There’s nothing else you can do with it.”  The usually hyperactive teen nodded, doing as he was told; Stiles finished pressing a soft kiss against the bandage as he held back a sob.

 

“I’m sorry I came here, I wanted to spare you from this sight, but I didn’t know what else to do… I needed you.” Derek whispered into the room, ignoring the awkward feeling of admitting how he felt, something he didn’t tend to like doing. Stiles stared up at him from where he was sat on the floor between the older man’s legs, hoping that the next time they were in this position it was for a different reason. “I’m glad you came here Derek… I’m scared, I’m fucking terrified! What if this happens again, actually scratch that, cause you and I both know that this will happen again. What happens if next time, whoever did this… what if he does worse?” Stiles sobbed, unable to stop himself as he stared up at the mass of bandages. 

The older man stared at the teen’s face, before reaching behind him towards the countertop ignoring the sharp pain as his wounds stretched, grabbing at the soft toy that he had clutched to his chest the entire drive over. Momentarily cupping it against his chest, Derek relished in the feel of the soft fur against his chest, reminding him of when he held the toy years previously. He stopped holding it in a vice grip, looking down at the toy’s face before handing it to the confused teen at his feet, softly asking, “Can you… Can you look after this for me?” Stiles looked at the toy questioningly, taking the toy regardless, admiring the silky black fur as Derek continued, “It was my childhood toy; my mother brought it for me from a craft fair we went to when I was four. My unc- attacker… he saw it and it’s the reason that I’m like this. I need you to look after him for me.” The teen cradled the toy against his chest, staring down at the black wolf with the startling red eyes, before shifting upwards to kiss Derek, wary of the man’s cuts as he tried to refrain from getting too passionate.  

 

Breaking apart, Stiles gently aided the older man to his feet, walking him towards the teen’s bedroom and onto the bed, smiling as Derek instantly curled up comfortably on the mattress, wrapping himself around the teen’s fully clothed back. The hyperactive teen listened to his teachers heart as it slowed, trying to find peace in the soft rhythm whilst trying to ignore the speeding train of thoughts that was rushing around his head. After lying in bed for an hour, unable to find sleep, Stiles detangled himself gently from Derek’s limbs; a sad smile filled his face as he stared at the man, his eyes straying immediately to the injuries that covered his body. Growling to himself, Stiles wondered over to his laptop, which was still turned on from earlier, typing abuse into the internet’s search bar.

 

Steve Stilinski wondered into the house just after dawn, the sky still showing elements of pink. He had noted the black car that he had seen a few weeks ago parked in the drive as he had been forced to park the sheriff car outside of the house instead of in its usual place. He had examined the expensive car with a raised eye before unlocking the front door, instantly making his way up towards his son’s room. Pushing the bedroom door open cautiously, he raised an eye at his son sat at his desk, the number of energy drink can’s in the surrounding area indicating that Stiles had pulled another all-nighter. He rolled his eyes at the energy drinks, the kid knew that he wasn’t meant to have them, and Steve could never find any when he searched for their whereabouts in the house and his son’s bedroom. Glancing over at the bed, he spotted the shape of someone curled up, half under the covers, stating quietly, “I thought I told you he couldn’t stay the night.”

Stiles flailed unexpectedly, clutching at his chest as he spun around to glare at his father’s presence in the doorway, “Dad! Are you trying to give your only child a heart-attack?” Steve rolled his eyes, still staring at the shape of the person in his son’s bed, repeating himself as he commented, “Like I said, I thought I told you that he couldn’t stay over.” The sheriff watched as his son stammered, instantly paling, as the kid’s eyes also wondered over to the person in the bed. Both Stilinski’s watched as the man shifted in his sleep, rolling over; Steve held back a gasp as the cover slipped away from the man’s back exposing an array of bandages, some showing blood slowly creeping through the gauze. “I take it back kid; he is welcome to stay whenever he needs to.”

Stiles nodded gratefully as his dad moved to walk out the room, the man softly shaking his head at the sight that he just saw. Steve reached the door, before he turned around suddenly, staring his son in the eyes as he asked, “If he’s allowed to stay when he needs to, am I allowed to know his name?” The teen nodded cautiously, smiling at the man on the bed, before turning back towards his father, “His names Derek.”

 

The sheriff nodded awkwardly, smiling at his son. Steve was about to walk away towards his own room, when he backtracked back towards his son’s room, hesitating in the doorway as he commented, “Get some sleep Stiles… and no funny business either!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly love this fanfic, it is my baby at the moment. 
> 
> I hope you guys are enjoying it too :) I am sorry for all the abuse poor Derek is being put through. 
> 
> I really need to stop writing chapters at night, I am now going to go curl up in Iron Man PJ's and nurse my alcohol, I mean my muse....


	19. Shower

Stiles grinned as his father left the room, the sheriff leaving the door wide open to try and prevent any funny business from occurring. Heeding his father’s comments, the hyperactive teen yawned as he made his way over to his occupied bed, smiling sympathetically at Derek’s sleeping form. Bright bruises had started to appear on the sleeping man’s skin, the colours standing out against the slightly tanned skin.

Stiles laid down next to Derek, curling himself around the older man’s body, carefully trying not to press against the man’s wounds. Sighing against the back of the older man’s neck, the teen knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep like his father had told him to. The amount of energy drink he had consumed throughout the night prevented the younger man from relaxing into the comfort of both his pillow and the embrace. He also knew from the soft sunlight that was slowly creeping through his bedroom’s blind that there was no point in even trying to sleep as he had to get up and get ready for school in a short period of time. Stiles remained resting on the bed, his fingers gently swirling around the bandages covering Derek’s body, using extra caution around the wounds where blood was slowly creeping through the gauze. Sighing against the older mans damaged skin; Stiles pressed a small kiss against the man’s neck, biting back tears as his eyes skimmed across the bandages on Derek’s back.

The teen fought back a sob as he tried to understand why someone would do this to another human being, despite spending all night looking up things such as torture, domestic abuse. He didn’t know why, but he had ended up spending most of his time researching and focusing on family abuse. Stiles had also used his minuscule hacking skills to gain access to his dad’s files, trying to look up if there were any history of gang violence in Beacon Hills. That search had quickly led to a dead end, and Stiles throwing an empty energy drink can at the wall in agitation. Stiles groaned as his head started trying to work again, thoughts crashing through his mind at speed due to the energy drink.

 

Derek awoke, smiling at the weight pressed cautiously against his back. Shifting around, wincing as he remembered the wounds that covered his body. Turning around, the older man smiled at the tired teen’s face that greeted him. Pressing a soft kiss against the teens shoulder, Derek continued placing chaste kisses up the younger man’s neck; he smiled when he finally reached the teen’s lips, teasing them with the barely there touch of his own. The whiny groan that emerged from the teens pink mouth was quickly quietened, turning instantly into a needy moan as Derek pressing a firm kiss against Stiles lips. Pulling away slightly, Derek smirked as the teen tried to follow him unwilling to break the contact between them.

The older man chuckled slightly before sadness filled his eyes as he muttered against the teens lips, “Thank you for looking after me last night, you really shouldn’t have had to see me like that.” Derek felt the soft skin of Stiles lips press against his in a forceful encounter, remaining there until both pulled back for air. The older man smiling softly at the teen as they only pulled away slightly, their lips till barely touching letting their breath entwine in the air between them. Stiles growled at his teacher humorously, “Don’t thank me yet, I still have to change your bandages first.” The teen had to bite back a chuckle as he watched Derek’s facial expression drop into a pout. Leaning forwards Stiles kissed him softly, before climbing out of bed ignoring the momentary relief in the fact he didn’t flail and fall for once. “Come on Sourwolf, time to get up and outta bed,” the teen insisted, linking their hands together before using their interlaced hands to gently tug the older man towards the edge of the bed. Despite the whines and complaints that the man emitted, Derek allowed himself to be pulled out of the comfort of the sheets, dragging his feet along the floor as Stiles led him towards the bathroom; the teen already forgetting his father’s comment about no funny business.

 

Sitting down on the closed toilet seat, Derek waited patiently as Stiles pulled away the gauze that had stuck to the wounds, wincing only occasionally as small sections of the bandage put up resistance. Feeling the teen pat him cautiously on the older man’s shoulder, whilst pressing a small kiss to the back of the man’s neck, “Go shower first Sourwolf, I’ll put fresh bandages on when you’re done.” Derek nodded, moving towards the glass shower cubicle, turning around before he pulled down his boxer briefs, raising an eyebrow when he noticed that the teen hadn’t left the room yet. “Are you not leaving?” The older man asked curiously, eyeing the hyperactive teen up suspiciously. Stiles smirked, laughing, “Nah, I think I’m gonna stay for the view.”

Derek rolled his eyes, turning back away from the teen, trying to forget his presence in the room as he stripped away the only piece of clothing that he was wearing. Leaving his boxer briefs pooled on the bathroom floor, momentarily hoping that Stiles had locked the bathroom door behind them.  Stepping into the shower spray, ignoring the initial slightly painful hiss as the hot water fell against his damaged skin, Derek moaned at the sensation.

The teen stood and watched as the older man had stripped in front of him, biting back a groan at the sight of the naked man in front of him. Stiles quickly fist punched the air, mentally whooping himself at Derek finally allowing them to explore below the belt, even if it was only looking at that moment in time. Taking an intake of breath as he watched his teacher moan underneath the spray of the shower, Stiles adjusted himself in his jeans, walking towards the shower door.

 

Derek turned around rapidly when he felt the cold breeze from the bathroom hit his back as the shower door opened. Confusion ran across his face as he saw Stiles standing in front of him in the shower fully clothed. “Stiles what are you…” the older man began to question, raising an eyebrow as he watched the hyperactive teen drop to his knees in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait on the update, I was trying to figure out where I wanted to take this. Thankfully to the help of a friend who has been waiting patiently for an update, I managed to figure it out. Hopefully she will give me a boot up the arse next time I'm sat with a writers block. 
> 
> I felt like there was much need for some lightly lovey shit after the beating that Derek has gone through. More to come, as again my lovely friend has helped me add some bone to the next chapter already.


	20. Bliss

Derek sat on his desk later that day, aimlessly sketching in his notebook, remembering the morning with a wide grin on his face. He had looked down in confusion as his hyperactive teen had followed him fully clothed into the shower; Stiles had then proceeded to dropping to his knees in front of the naked older man. The inexperienced kid hadn’t said anything as Derek asked what he was doing, instead hesitantly moving to hold the teacher’s half-hard member in his hand. Derek had moaned as he stared at Stiles big brown eyes looking up at him, the lust that dilated the teen’s pupils leaving only a small circle of golden brown visible. The teen’s eyes glanced down at the older man’s cock momentarily, before flitting up the man’s muscular body until they once again stared into Derek’s eyes. Stiles eyes stayed in contact with Derek’s as the teen tentatively moved forward, cautiously licking at the head of the older man’s cock. Derek watched as the teen’s tongue gathered the small amount of pearlescent pre-cum that was already leaking from the older mans cock, before pulling away momentarily as if to mentally determine if he liked it or not. Stiles ran his tongue over his bottom lip, before swiftly moving back towards the other man’s member.

The teen placed one of his hands on Derek’s uninjured hip, whilst resting the other on the front of the older man’s thigh, placing a small amount of pressure in the touch to tell the older man not to move. Derek’s moans filled the shower cubicle and the bathroom, as Stiles took in a deep breath of air to calm himself before launching himself at the older man’s cock. The teen’s obvious inexperience didn’t bother Derek, as he revelled in the feel of Stiles wet mouth surrounding the head of his cock. The older man had to resist the urge to thrust into the kid’s mouth, wanting to force the teen to take him fully into his throat. Derek wanted to watch Stiles lips stretch over the base of his cock, wanted to make him gag on the length as the older man held the teen’s head in his hands and thrust manically into his mouth. Instead the older man moved his urges to the back of his mind, letting his hands rest on the back of the teen’s head as he watched Stiles slowly grow more confident at every moan that Derek released. Stiles experimented, attempting moves that he had seen whilst watching porn, rolling his tongue around the head, before fully engulfing the cock, taking as much in as possible without gagging. The teen hummed softly around Derek’s length, another move that Stiles remembered from watching porn, before swallowing around the older man’s cock. Stiles winked up at the older man, still working his member with his mouth, as Derek moaned loudly, his hands moving to grasp at the back of the teen’s head as he edged dangerously close to his orgasm, his fingers failing to clutch at the short strands.

“Stiles, I’m gonna… Oh fuck!” Derek groaned into the room as the teen refused to listen to what the older man was about to say. Instead Stiles forced himself to take Derek’s cock fully into his mouth, gagging momentarily when the head pressed at the back of his throat. Stiles inhaled the musky scent of Derek’s skin, moaning around the older man’s cock as he felt him spill into his mouth, loving the way that Derek’s hands held him firmly in place keeping the teen’s mouth stay at the base of his cock. Spluttering softly as the fluid filled his mouth, whilst he attempted to swallow it down around Derek’s member, Stiles felt the cum dribbling from the corners of his stretched lips, falling down his chin as he looked up at Derek’s face. The sight of the older man’s orgasm face caused Stiles to cum untouched, his orgasm racing through him with such ferocity that his world turned white.

 

Coming down from his high, Derek removed his hands from the back of the teen’s head, feeling his stomach flip in arousal at the sight of the teen’s face as Stiles came down from his own high. Gently aiding the teen to his feet, the older man pressed a loving kiss against Stiles reddened lips, nuzzling at the teens cheek. Stiles moved forwards, wrapping himself tightly around the older man in an embrace, his head resting carefully against Derek’s chest directly above his heart. “Your hearts going crazy dude,” Stiles commented as he pressed a kiss against the bare chest directly above the frantic beating. The older man hesitated momentarily before kissing the top of the teen’s head, teasing softly, “I wonder why…” Stiles moved away, playfully slapping at Derek’s uninjured arm instead of hitting his chest.

 

They had left the shower after that, Derek pressing a soft kiss to the top of the teen’s head before leaving the teen to get changed in private as he waited in the bathroom wearing only a pair of boxer briefs. Stiles walked back into the room, chattering away with a sexy rasp in his voice, which left Derek smirking knowing that he was the cause to that.  The older man had let the teen rewrap his injuries, both grateful that the shower had washed away all the dry blood from the night before, making them look slightly better and less grotesque. Stiles pressed a soft kiss to each wound, wrapping them in gauze, placing a final kiss on the bandage. Derek couldn’t help but to smile awkwardly at the teen as Stiles muttered as he wiped gently at one on his back, “This one won’t stop bleeding. It’s being a pain!” The older man grimaced momentarily, before replying, “Yeh I bleed a lot, pain in the arse. It takes a while for wounds to clot.”

Stiles frowned at the injury on the older man’s back, giving up wiping at the slow trail of blood that kept escaping from the wound, instead just pressing a pad on it before gauzing over it. “You should go to the doctors or something. Can you get medication that causes blood to clot, wait a second I just realized what I said. Blood Clot. Bad Thing… But should it still be bleeding after all night?” Stiles questioned, putting away the few remaining bandages that they had left. “Must have scratched at it in my sleep,” Derek stated blandly, the frown on his face making the teen realize that the older man didn’t want to continue talking about it. Stiles took note of the abrupt end of conversation, pressing a soft kiss to the Derek’s forehead, smiling sweetly when the older man pulled him to stand in between his spread legs. They engaged in a short make-out session before they remembered that they still had to get breakfast before heading to school, the teen went downstairs shouting gleefully about making pancakes leaving the older man to chuckle softly at the hyperactive kid as he dressed in the spare set of clothes he brought with him.

 

Derek walked downstairs, following the sounds of Stiles off-key singing and the smell of cooking. He walked into the kitchen, his eyes bulging out of his head at the sight of the sheriff sitting at the table. He gulped as the policeman turned to look at him, a critical eye glancing him over, before the sheriff stated, “You must be Derek, don’t worry my son has told me absolutely nothing about you. How are you today?” Derek gulped again, inhaling shakily, “I am well, thank you for asking Sheriff Stilinski.” Stiles appeared at the table placing two plates of pancakes in front of the men, before quickly returning with his own. Grateful for the distraction of food, Derek and Stiles ate with gusto, ignoring the contemplative look that the sheriff was giving them both.

Steve Stilinski couldn’t help but to raise an eyebrow as he compared his son to the man sat opposite him at the table. Seeing this ‘Derek’ in the daylight and not in his son’s bed only confirmed the nagging fear that had been at the back of his mind. Taking in the sight of the man sat with his son at the table, the sheriff knew for certain that Derek was not a student at Beacon Hills High School. For one, Steve knew that there was no way that Derek could still be a student, even if he had been held back by a year. The tattoo that had had momentarily seen that morning when he had checked in on his son, was one of the hints at that, as well as the stubble that grew consistently on the man’s face. He himself hadn’t been able to grow facial hair that grew consistently across his face until he was 21; hardly any teen was capable of growing more than a few mismatched spots of hair. His own son was currently only able to grow hair on his neck. He waited until both his son and the man had finished their breakfast, as he ignored the majority of his own, Steve asked, “So Derek… how old are you, my kid hasn’t said.”

Stiles flailed slightly, looking at the skin on his wrist as if he was looking at a watch, stating loudly to the room, “Oh wow, would you look at the time! Let’s go to school Derek. We’ll take my jeep, cause dude it looks like you killed someone in your front seat.” Grabbing at his car keys, Stiles dragged Derek from the kitchen, allowing the older man to pause momentarily to pick up his work bag which Stiles had brought in when Derek was getting dressed. Shouting out a goodbye to his dad, Stiles flailed again as the sheriff shouted back, “Stiles, you’re practically screaming that you’re trying to hide some.”

 

Shaking his head slightly as he remembered, Derek looked back at his sketchbook page, chuckling when he realized that he had doodled a picture of Stiles on his knees with a cock in his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can not believe I wrote over 700 words on a sex scene. I am fucking awful at sex scenes, normally it is a miracle if i write 100 words. I blame this on my hatred of the way cock, dick, penis and everything else sounds when you're trying to write. i just turn into Stiles and flail.
> 
> I blame porn for the 700 word blow job scene. I fear the word chapter when they go the full way. 
> 
> I acctually had so much fun writing this chapter, I am going to apologize though, I have snuck a reference or two to some future angst that I have decided to throw at poor Derek. I will honestly give a marriage proposal to anyone who figures it out.
> 
> Sorry for the wank chapter title, couldn't think of one.


	21. Love

Over a week had passed since the morning when Stiles had dropped to his knees and blown Derek in the shower. Derek couldn’t get the sight of the teen on his knees out of his head, the image becoming a more prominent focal point with every day that past. However the couple had been unable to recreate the moment of bliss from that morning. It wasn’t due to the older man’s injuries; the majority of the teacher’s wounds had slowly begun to heal over; itchy scabs had formed over the wounds, and the skin that surrounded the injuries were slowly scarring over the scab.  It was because neither of them had been able to get time alone with each other.

 

Stiles had begun to spend every lunch break with the new bunch of friends that he had accumulated with Erica; Derek would often walk through the cafeteria to see the teen smiling and laughing at the table alongside the blonde girl, a skittish boy that he knew as Isaac from one of his art classes, and a dark skinned boy that he had never taught before. After school was also out of the question as the Sheriff had been picking the teen up from school every day due to a problem that had sprung up with the kid’s beloved jeep. Derek was sure that he would have gone stir-crazy if it wasn’t for the constant texts that’s the pair exchanged, the subjects ranging from sweet goodnights to teetering on the edge of phone sex. The flirty texts alongside the lack of time that he had been able to spend face to face with Stiles, left Derek almost constantly turned on with no way of release other than the use of his right hand. 

The situation and lack of contact was obviously getting to the hyperactive teen as well, due to the quantity of picture messages that Stiles had taken to sending to Derek. The one that the older man liked the most out of them all, was a photo of Stiles lying on the bed, his covers pooling at his naked hips, the ‘V’ shape teasingly peeking out from beneath the sheets. When Stiles sent the photo, Derek had opened his phone groaning instantly at the sight. The art teacher had mentally thanked the gods that the teen had sent him the picture when the older man didn’t have a lesson; Derek had hastily locked the classroom door, grateful that the windows were all frosted glass. With the doors locked, he had lent against his desk, moaning quietly as he popped the buttons of his jeans, letting them fall to rest low on his hips as he wrapped his hands around his rock hard cock. Staring at the photo on his phone, Derek was only slightly embarrassed that it only took a few tugs before he was leaking pre come, and only a minute or so more before his release was spilling into his hand. Cleaning up the mess he made, he blamed how sexy Stiles looked in the picture and how long it had been since they had even shared a kiss.

 

It was a Wednesday afternoon, when Stiles happily flailed into Derek’s classroom with a few minutes remaining in the lunch break. The older man looked up smiling when he saw the hyperactive teen’s face, Derek couldn’t help but smile more when the teen placed his hands on either side of the older man’s face, pulling him down for a quick kiss. Momentarily returning the kiss, Derek reluctantly pulled away from the touch knowing that the bell was going to go soon signally the end of lunch, and that the chance of getting caught would be high. Stiles understood taking a step backwards, away from the temptation that was sat crossed legged on the desk, gleefully announcing to the older man, “My jeeps fixed! My dad doesn’t need to pick me up today, so I was thinking…” Derek winked at the teen, as the hyperactive kid stopped mid-sentence as the door to the classroom opened.  “Of course Stiles, we can continue this discussion about your work after the lesson,” the older man stated, smiling at the students who were slowly walking into the room, winking one again at Stiles  when he was sure no one was watching their exchange.

 

Derek set the class an assignment to create and fill a sketchbook based around a word, to be handed in just before the thanksgiving holidays. He knew it sounded like a simple task to the class, judging from the few laughing looks that were exchanged between Jackson and some of his lacrosse friends. Derek couldn’t help but to chuckle when he started to explain what he wanted to see in the book, as he stated, “It’s not just doodling a picture on every page people. I want research, ideas, development. I want the book to be unable to close when you hand it in to me.” The art teacher reached behind him from where he sat on the desk, grabbing at a square book that he had placed on his desk chair. He brought it up to show the class, smirking as the smirk dropped off Jackson’s face, being replaced with a look of shock.

 The book that Derek was holding up was one that the older man had used for his second term of his first year at college. The bound book was held shut with an army of elastic bands, but it didn’t stop the front cover from pointing up at the ceiling when it was laid to rest flat on the desk. Printed pages stuck out at awkward angles, and one corner looked like it had been dipped in paint. “This is one of my old sketchbooks,” Derek started as he broke the elastic bands keeping it marginally closed, when he removed the last band, the book sprung open fully. “Now it does not have to be as wild as this, but I will point out that this book was only two months’ worth of work. I also don’t want it to be OCD neat, Lydia. You are making this book for you to read, I don’t want it all nicely organized because that is not you using it, that is you trying to get a grade… you will fail.” He enjoyed the sadistic feeling when he watched the students gulp in worry, he told them all to come and look through the book to see what he meant. Derek smiled encouragingly at the students, as each worried look turned into an understanding nod when they looked through the messy book. It was practically unreadable, notes being sprawled in every available space, in a messy writing that even Derek couldn’t read properly.

 

Derek waited until every student had looked through his old sketchbook, before he bounced off of his desk, grabbing a beanie hat and his notebook before moving to stand in front of a random teen, “I want each of you to take out a piece of paper from this hat, and read out the word that is written on it. That is what you will be basing your sketchbook on. Keep the paper, just in-case one of you is stupid enough not to write down what your theme is.” The teenagers in the room gulped again as they each stuck their hand into the bag calling out the word that they had picked. The older man smiled encouragingly as Stiles stammered over the word that he had picked from his hat. “Love…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way who else plays Simpsons Tapped Out? Add me if you want, I wants friends - I'm 'Alixinsanity' :)
> 
> The lovely description about sketchbooks is basically what my painting book from university is like. It doesn't close, and because of that was a bulky mother fucker to carry around. Ironically enough, when it came to assessment, my illustration tutor practically pouted because my illustration book wasn't bulky like my painting one. 
> 
> The illegible notes is also describing my sketchbooks, my writing is god awful at best, but when it gets to work and books its just a scribble. I think my brain does it so that no one can read it, and therefore no one can tell that I'm writing out my arse. 
> 
> Possibly sexy scene next chapter, hopefully.....


	22. The Way You Play

Stiles stammered, “Love”, to the room, blushing at the patronizing snorts that half the class emitted. Derek frowned at the students as one of the lacrosse players at the back of the group snorted loudly, “Stilinski and love! The dude only knows the use of his right hand.” The hyperactive teens blush deepened in colour, but before he could fight back with a response, Derek had snapped across the giggling room, “Well with that Greenberg, you will also be basing your sketchbook around the theme of love. I know that there are two pieces of paper with love written on it in this hat. Considering you probably only know the use of your right hand, we shall see which one of you understands love better.” Stiles mouthed ‘thank you’ at Derek when their eyes met, smiling softly before he looked down to pay attention to the floor to try and distract the attention from himself.

Derek continued going through the class with the hat of words, smiling when Jackson pulled out the last word, the popular teen rolling his eyes as he stated, “Love.” The older man smiled apologetically, as he asked, “As I gave the second Love to Greenberg, could you be able to make your project based around a friendship instead Jackson?” Derek clapped the teen on the shoulder before walking back to the front of the class, “Okay you can do anything in this book, paintings, drawings, photographs, prints, illustration. But don’t forget to write your ideas down, and get research and experiment guys.”

 

The older man spent the rest of the lesson helping the class think up ideas for brainstorms, and giving advice to kids who didn’t know where to start with the topic’s that they ended up with. Derek couldn’t help but to smile as he watched Stiles frantically writing away ideas. When the bell rang signalling the end of the school day, Derek grinned widely as he watched his hyperactive teen wait beside the edge of his desk bouncing on his feet, waiting for the rest of the students to leave. The older man closed the door behind the last of the students, grinning at Stiles as he turned the lock. Derek practically stalked towards where the teen had taken to leaning provocatively against the desk, pulling Stiles into a demanding kiss when he stopped in front of the kid. The kiss escalated quickly, tongues battling against each-other, whilst Derek’s hands dropped to squeeze Stiles hips. Inching the teens shirt up slightly, to run his thumbs on the soft skin above his jeans, Derek broke away from the kids addictive lips, dropping his head mouthing at the pale skin on Stiles neck. Stiles moaned loudly when he felt the older man, bite into the soft skin, sucking a purple mark into the cream complexion. Derek pulled away from the abused skin, pressing a chaste kiss against the teens red lips, “Before I continue this man-handling of you, I just want you to know that I missed you.”

Stiles chuckled against the older man’s lips, whispering a reply accompanied by a gentle kiss, “I missed you too.” The teen nuzzled into the side of Derek’s neck, practically purring when he realized that his head rested there perfectly. Chuckling softly, Derek whispered into the hyperactive teen’s ear, “I want to show you something in my sketchbook; it might give you some ideas for your project.” Stiles moved out of the embrace, nodding ferociously; he loved looking at the older man’s work, it was quite honestly brilliant. The last time the teen had seen the teacher’s personal sketchbook, he couldn’t find a single flaw in any of the man’s drawings, despite Derek saying there were hundreds. The teen watched as the older man reached behind him, grabbing at the small antique style leather sketchbook. Derek had brought it recently, after filling his previous one mainly with quick simple sketches of Stiles; the teen had blushed so much when he found out that the older man had been secretly sketching him during lessons. Derek thumbed a few pages into the book, smirking at the picture before spinning the book around to show the intrigued teen. The older man watched as Stiles, stared in shock at the picture. The teen’s blush grew increasingly more scarlet as he stammered, “That’s a… that’s a picture of … me-”

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed.” Derek joked lightly, making a show of looking at the page in surprise as if only just realizing that the subject of the picture was in fact Stiles. The teen frowned before playfully sticking his tongue out, stuttering in embarrassment, “I meant, that’s a pic-tu-ture of me… me sucking a cock.” The older man, grinned devilishly as he continued, “Yes. Yes it is. My cock to be precise.”

The teens blush increased, flailing once due to how blunt the older man was being, slapping Derek’s arm as he replied “You can’t just say stuff like that.” Derek surged forwards, capturing the teen in a kiss, nibbling softly at the kids bottom lip, playfully pulling it between his teeth when the teen went to break the kiss. Giggling through his embarrassment, Stiles pecked the older man’s cheek, “Down puppy.” Snorting at the comment, Derek decided to play along, licking a strip up the teen’s cheek, pouting childishly when Stiles cuffed him around the head.  

 

Deciding that he had enough of the playful banter that they often shared for the time being, Derek growled fiendishly, pulling the teen against his muscular chest, before spinning them around, pressing Stiles backwards so that he was spread across the teacher’s desk. The sudden movement momentarily stole the breath from the teen’s lungs, gasping at being manhandled. “Well you did say that you were going to man-handle me, though I thought you had forgotten about it, cause you got all distracted, with you showing me your pervy drawings and what not,” Stiles rambled aimlessly, gulping in excitement when Derek moved up his body, straddling his hips, sitting dangerously slow to the edge of the table. Silencing the teen with a kiss, the older man breathed lovingly against the kid’s kiss-swollen lips, “Stiles. Shut up.” Derek recaptured the teen in a kiss, just as the younger male opened his mouth to respond.  Their kiss continued, quickly turning into a battle of dominance, which Stiles just as quickly lost in; the teen happily allowing the older man to take full control of the situation.

Derek moaned when he felt the hyperactive teen begin to rut his hips up against his own, the action causing their hard members to rub against each other, caught between the coarse materials of their jeans. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Stiles moaned at stimulation, the noise echoing around the room. The older man nodded in agreement, resting his forehead against the younger mans, as they began to focus more on the movement of their hips. Derek placed his hands guidingly on the teen’s hips, halting the kid’s wild and uncoordinated movements, instead bringing them against his to move in rhythm.  The pace quickened, with both sets of moans filling the room, Derek bit into the side of the teen’s neck, sucking a mark as he popped the buttons on his own trousers, before fiddling awkwardly with the zip/button combo on the teens. Finally managing to undo the teen jeans, Derek tugged at them harshly, bringing them to rest around Stiles thighs, leaving his underwear exposed to the room. The older man let his own jeans drop to his thighs, watching as Stiles blushed when he noticed that Derek had gone commando; instead of seeing a pair of underwear, the teen was eyeing the older man’s erect penis with lust. Smirking at the kid, Derek dropped his fingers into the waist of the teen’s underwear, judging Stiles reaction; the older man grinned when the hyperactive teen nodded enthusiastically.

Pulling the teen’s boxer-briefs down, allowing them to pool around Stiles thighs alongside the jeans, Derek nuzzled the teen’s neck as he breathed into his ear, “You’re fucking gorgeous. One day. One day soon I am going to have you naked, and I am just going to stare, and draw and then fucking love you.” Palming the teen’s cock, Derek loved the weight of it in his hands as he wrapped his fingers around the base. Stiles couldn’t help but moan at the simple touch, his teenage hormones had made him hard for most of the lesson, and being alone with Derek had only made him ache for release. The older man felt the same way, pressing himself against the teen; Derek fisted his hand around both of their leaking cocks. Using the dripping pre-come as a make-shift lubricant, Derek trapped Stiles in a heated kiss as he worked them towards release. The teen moaned loudly into the kiss, as he felt his body shudder as he came all over the older man’s shirt. Derek growled at the feel of Stiles cum against his clothed chest, the moisture seeping through the fabric; the temperature of the damp spots contrasted against his body temperature.  “Fuck,” the older man moaned as he felt his own orgasm rising up to the surface, moaning his way through his release. His upper body dropped against Stiles, the older man gasping for breath into the teen’s neck as he tried to get his heart rate back to a normal-ish speed.

 

“I don’t think I will ever be able to look at your desk again without getting hard,” Stiles mumbled into his teachers ear, smiling when he felt the man’s chuckle tingle against the skin on his neck, “I’m sorry about jizzing on your shirt too.” Derek moved away from the teen’s neck with a curious smile, sitting up where he straddled Stiles hips, he asked with a chuckle, “What the hell does jizzing mean?”

“Dude! Jizz, blow your load, cream yourself, milking it… really you don’t know any of them! Dude, I’m trying to apologize for squirting my load- oh for- I’m sorry for ejaculating all over you’re lovely black shirt. I am actually really sorry, do you have like a spare shirt or something, cause its kinda obvious what that is on your shirt, and we can’t walk out of school with cum of your shirt!” Stiles rambled, leaving Derek laughing when he finally figured out what the teen had been trying to say. “You’re insane,” the older man chuckled.

“Yep, but you love me for it,” the teen stated in a matter of fact tone. Derek didn’t reply, instead he just leant down, kissing Stiles once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you play Simpsons Tapped Out, add me I'm - Alixinsanity .... I think I am anyways 
> 
> The chapter title is from Young And Beautiful by Lana Del Rey, brilliant song. I went to watch The Great Gatsby with a few friends, and although the movie was good. The soundtrack was just fucking amazing.
> 
> I love all you guys by the way, but now my minions I need sleep. I have been awake since 5 am, after having only 5 hours sleep. I then worked all morning with a group of 8-12 years olds, doing rock-climbing with them, and although I do love working with them, there are always times when they test my patience levels. I then went to the cinema to see The Man of Steel film, it is fucking amazing people, go see it! Very sexy mother fucker, just saying. But yes, it is now 11pm, I have had vanilla vodka and I needs sleep. 
> 
> Let me know if the sexy scene was adequate enough, cause I did promise you on in the last chapter notes, and yes. I think its awful personally, but yeh. Let me know what you want to happen next as well, ideas will be stashed in my little notebook of angst :)


	23. The Chances

**U oging 2 the dance tomoz  XX – S**

**I’m going to presume that was meant to read are you going to the dance tomorrow, and the answer is no. X- D**

**Aww! Dont be such a sourwolf Dereek! U can cum dance wit me ;) xx – S**

**Did you really have to spell come that way? Fucking hell Red. – D**

**Mabe I culd give u a special dance? How bout if I sit on ur lap? I could make u cum all over me @:P xx – S**

**Are yu trying to make me cum in my pants/ - D**

**Omg! Did the mighty Derek, king of no-text speeh just make a seplling mistke! Wow I mst have rally got to u!1!!1! xx- S**

Derek groaned at the words that stood out vibrantly on his phone screen, one hand wrapped around the metal device whilst his other had dropped into his jeans. His fingers squeezed around his blood-filled member, easing the lustful ache that ran through his entire body. He was grateful that when he had walked in after school, his uncle had merely punched him in the stomach until the younger male fell to the floor, and then informed Derek that he was going out. Derek had only presumed that Peter was probably drowning himself in alcohol at a random bar, he knew that his uncle would then stumble into the arms of some random whore that he would take to a motel. Ignoring the thoughts of his uncle, Derek tapped on his phone, sliding his finger along the contact ‘Red’. Bringing his phone up to his ear, the older man moaned as his fingers thumbed the head of his cock, dropping his hand quickly to squeeze around the base. He groaned in annoyance when he heard the phone call being rejected, moving to stare in frustration at the device.

 

**Dude! My dads in the sam e room!! U cant ring me and hase phrone s eex. – S**

**Can you come over? X – D**

**Dude! So rnot ur booty call! X – S**

**That’s not what I’m asking for Stiles. I could rub this out now, and we could just watch a film or something? XX – D**

**Fine. The duble kiss ss won me over.  Meet me over at the scool in 20 mins and ill tailgate u. XXX, I have startd a kiss war! – S**

“Hey dad, I’m going to go watch a movie at Erica’s, is that okay?” Stiles asked his father, distracting the sheriff from the football match on the TV. The teen watched as his father raised an eyebrow at the mention of the girls name; Stiles had introduced her to the sheriff when his dad had walked in from a shift to see the two of them sleeping on the couch, the title screen of Batman Begins playing repetitively to the room. The hyperactive teen had driven the girl home, returning to see his father sat on the couch with a glass of jack in hand. The presence of the Jack Daniels was the instant indicator to the teen that they were about to have an awkward conversation, so Stiles quickly sat down after running to get an Energy Drink can from his secret stash. The sheriff had rolled his eyes when he saw the teen falling onto the opposite sofa with the can, waiting till his son had moved to take a drink before he asked, “So is Erica your girlfriend or something?” Stiles couldn’t help but splutter, spraying his mouthful of drink across the room as he gaped at his father, “Dad! Erica’s a friend. Just a friend! Why would you even ask that! I mean the other day you were asking if we needed to have a safe sex talk about Derek.”

“Well what am I meant to say? One day you turn up with a random guy in your bed who is god knows how much older than you- don’t give me that face Stiles, I’m the sheriff I know that he isn’t still in school- and then you turn up the next day with a random girl sleeping on the sofa. What am I meant to say kid seriously?” Steve sighed, drinking his glass dry before reaching for the bottle again. Stiles moved quicker, moving the bottle out of his father’s reach, smiling softly as his dad nodded his head in unspoken thanks. Stiles and the sheriff had sorted things out since then; with the teen blatantly stating that Erica was just a friend and not anything more. His father had quipped back asking what did that make Derek then, leaving the teen spluttering over a response.

*

“Sure it’s okay kid. But are you actually going over to Erica’s or are you going over to the mysterious Derek’s?” The sheriff asked, pausing momentarily to swear at the match on the TV.

“Does it make a difference whose house I’m going over to?” Stiles inquired, as he dangled his car keys against his side waiting for his father’s response.  Steve snorted into the glass of juice that the teen had forced him to drink instead of beer, “Course it makes a difference. Whilst I know that there is nothing going on between you and Erica, I don’t like the idea of you being alone around Derek. Don’t give me that look Stiles, I didn’t mean that I don’t trust Derek. I meant that I don’t know what you two might end up getting up to.” Stiles pouted at his father’s words, earning an exaggerated sigh from the older man. “Fine, I know you’re going to break your curfew anyways, so please just tell me whose house you’re actually going to, and text me if you’re going to spend the night,” Steve exhaled, suddenly wanting the bottle of Jack Daniels that the teen had hidden from him weeks previously, back from the discussion that occurred after the sheriff met Erica for the first time.

Looking uneasily at the floor, Stiles mumbled his barely audible response, “Derek’s.” Groaning slightly, Steve moved from his seat heading towards the kitchen and the beer that he knew was hidden in the fruit and veg drawer. Following after his father, Stiles bit back his comment about the older man’s health as Steve popped the cap on the bottle. “Just be safe kid, please.”

Stiles quickly pulled the other man into a hug, before joking softly, “Aww come on dad. What’s the chance of me getting pregnant?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really fucked about this chapter at all. It was such a chapter full of writers block, so I apologize for the shitty quality. 
> 
> Stiles text speak is basically me taking the piss out of the way my text's generally come out. Touch screens are both amazing and awful, my phones giant but i still make more spelling mistakes than humanly possible.


	24. Draw the Line

By the time Stiles got to Beacon Hills High School car park, Derek’s Camaro was already sat waiting for the Blue Jeep. As soon as he spotted the teen, Derek casually got out of his car, ignoring the chill that ran through the air, biting at his skin. Stiles cut off his engine, flailing slightly as he jumped out of the jeep, walking over to where the older man stood. Derek closed the remaining gap between them, pulling the teen into his embrace and instantly trapping him in a powerful kiss; Stiles clenched his fingers tightly in the thin hoody that was stretched across the older man’s chest. Breaking away from the passionate kiss, Derek pressed a final chaste touch against the teen’s lips before asking, “You read to tailgate?” Nodding in response, Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s waist in a quick hug before jogging back to his car, blushing slightly as he fell into the vehicle.

The teen easily followed the older man through the town, curiosity filling his body as they edged further out of Beacon Hills, the gaps between the houses getting wider and longer. Finally pulling up outside his home, Derek got out of his car, watching as the teen stopped behind him. Stiles stared up at the house, mouth hanging wide open as he moved over to stand next to Derek. “I guess I forgot how big it is when I was drunk.” The older man snorted softly as his thoughts ran perverted, receiving a playful slap on the arm from Stiles as the teen rolled his eyes. Leaning back against his precious Camaro, Derek pulled the teen up against him, hands moving to rest against the teens hips as he began to kiss Stiles. “I’ve missed this,” the older man breathed against the teen’s lips, receiving a soft giggle in response. “It’s only been a few days.”

“A few days spent only seeing you in the corridor, I miss you Red.” Stiles pressed another kiss against Derek’s lips at the older man’s comment. Squeezing at the teachers hand, the teen began to walk slowly towards the front door, smiling as Derek faffed with his key ring, searching for the right key. After the older man finally found it, Stiles waited awkwardly on the front step, smiling as Derek led him into the house directly towards the living room. 

 

Dropping his car keys onto the coffee table, Derek pulled off his hoodie, smirking as he realized that Stiles was watching his movement with a light lust in his eyes.  The teens widened as he realized that Derek had decided to forget his shirt, the hoodie clearly being something that the older man had pulled on to meet the younger male. The lack of shirt left the teacher’s muscles bare and visible to the world; Stiles couldn’t help but to drool slightly as he eyed the older man’s hips creeping out from where Derek’s slouch pants rested dangerously low.  Eying Derek’s hips once more, Stiles smirked as he asked, “Do you ever wear boxers?” Smiling devilishly at the teen, the older man hitched a finger into the waist of the trousers, pulling them away from his body to show the lack of undergarments. Raising an eyebrow at the blushing teen, Derek led Stiles over to the sofa in front of the already set up TV, as he replied, “I do wear them occasionally. I’ve put Titanic on; it might give you some inspiration for your sketchbook project.” The teen couldn’t help but to snort at the older man’s comment, “You’re joking right? You just want to see me cry, or you’re just using it to try to influence me into letting you draw me like one of your French girls. So not happening, you haven’t seen me undressed yet, and you’re so not putting that sight on paper.” Rolling his eyes at the teens rambling rant, Derek led down across the three-seat sofa, pulling the teen against his chest as he pressed play on the remote. Smirking as he felt Stiles snuggle back against him, the older man wrapped his arms around his holding him close.

They had reached the part with Rose and Jack’s first meeting when Stiles piped up inquisitively, “Do you believe in love at first sight and stuff like that?” The teen spun his head slightly to look into the older man’s face. Derek smiled down at the teen, pressing a soft kiss to the teen’s forehead before replying, “I do, because there was something between us the moment I met you. Call it lust if you want, but lust is just an attraction, something about you called to me.” The smile that instantly filled the teen’s face, made Derek know that he gave the right answer. The older man ran his fingers softly through the short bristles of the teen’s hair, as he began to pay more attention to Stiles than the film.  Derek’s hands trailed across the younger man’s body, gently sliding up and down the teen’s side. The older man couldn’t help but chuckle when he received a dirty look from the teen as the younger man jolted at the soft tickle.

Stiles settled in continuing to watch the film, as he ignored the soft touch of Derek’s fingers trailing against his neck. The teen couldn’t help but to blush at the scene of Jack drawing Rose; he reached towards where the remote laid on the coffee-table, he paused the DVD as he spun around in the older man’s arms. Pressing a soft kiss to the older man’s lips, Stiles continued blushing as Derek asked, “What’s up Red?” Derek watched as the teen bit softly at his bottom lip, the action stirring interest in the older man. “Do you really want to draw me like that, or was it just a joke?” Stiles mumbled, refusing to look the older man in the eye, instead staring at where his fingers were fiddling with a leather bracelet on the teacher’s wrist. “If you are comfortable with it, I would love to draw you. But I won’t force you to do something which you are uncomfortable with.” Shifting off of the sofa, Stiles drew in a distorted breath as he pulled at the base of his shirt, yanking it over his head. Quickly depositing the top on the floor, Stiles trembled, “Go… Go get your stuff then Mr Artist.”

 

Derek never ran through the house faster than he did then, scrambling off of the couch, falling slightly into the coffee table as he tried to move quickly towards where his work bag was in his bedroom. It took less than a minute for Derek to come stumbling back into the living room, bag at his side and various blankets underneath his arm. The older man dropped his bag on top of the table, pulling cushions and more blankets off of the sofas, arranging the collection on the wooden floor. He threw a faux fur blanket over the top of everything, before turning to smile at the blushing teen who stood half dressed in the same position.  “Do you want me to give you a hand, or leave the room for a moment or something?” Derek asked sensing the teen’s nerves. Stiles shook his head, his trembling hands coming up to fumble with his jeans momentarily, before stopping and pulling his shoes and socks off instead. “You don’t have to do this, Stiles.” The teen nodded in understanding, as he replied with a slight squeak in his voice, “I know, but I want to do this. I want to do this for you.” Stiles drew in a quick breath as if to calm the bundle of nerves within him, as he hesitantly undid the button on his jeans. The teen let the denim pool at his hips for a moment, exhaling as he hooked his fingers into the waistline of his boxers, pulling them down with his jeans.

Derek stared in fascination at the body in front of him, the thin body showed hints of muscle that were hidden underneath the teens layers of clothing. The pale skin etched with numerous moles made him want to explore every inch, kissing every small mark on the flesh.  He knew that the teen was embarrassed, having probably never been in an intimate situation involving being naked before; he pressed a soft kiss against the teens forehead, before moving down to press his lips chastely against the younger mans. Breathing against the teens red lips, Derek whispered, “Just go get comfortable, I lo… You look beautiful.” Stiles smiled against the older man’s lips, gaining confidence as he took in the lust that filled Derek’s eyes.

 

Stiles arranged himself delicately on the blankets that Derek set up, moaning slightly at the soft touch of the fur blanket, sinking into its comfort as he laid out waiting for the older man to rearrange him. Derek could feel himself harden slightly at the moan that emitted from the teen’s mouth, his slouch pants tenting at the noise. Folding his legs to try and hide the addition in his pants, the older man didn’t want to throw Stiles out of his comfort zone by drawing attention to his arousal. “If you dare arrange me in the position that Rose was in, I will honestly throw a cushion at you for being unoriginal.” Stiles quipped, causing the older man’s inner tension to crack with a chuckle. “But I wanted to draw you like one of my many French girls,” Derek joked before glancing over the position Stiles had put himself in. The teen was led down but had angled his body so that Derek could see the front perfectly; the younger man had also moved a cushion and made it into a make-shift headrest. The cushion aided the teen in resting his arms above his head, stretching out his abdomen and making his muscles more visible. Derek licked his lips at the inviting position, smiling as Stiles chimed, “There best not be any French girls around mister, I want you to myself, and if there’s others I’m gonna just walk out right now. I wouldn’t even hang around long enough to put my clothes back on, my arse would quite literally be the last thing you would see as I walked out your door.”

“There is nobody else Stiles don’t worry, now just don’t move. You look perfect.”

 

Derek worked into both his small sketchbook that he kept on him all of the time and a larger A3 sized one, working in conte-crayons and charcoal to sketch the naked teen in front of him. The older felt like his heart was beating faster with every mark that he made on the page, his hands intently trying to capture the pure beauty of Stiles on the page. Derek knew that nothing on paper could ever be as beautiful as Stiles in the flesh, but he tried regardless to capture every mark on the teen’s body in his sketchbooks. He could feel his arousal refusing to go down, as he felt the teen’s eyes bore into him with an intense desire. With a final spray of hairspray over the page, he put the book aside, leaving himself to simply stare at the bare teen.

“Is that you done Mr Sourwolf Artist?” Stiles received only a nod in response as the older man continued to stare at the younger male. Snorting slightly, the teen stretched his body; Stiles chuckled as he noticed the older man was staring intently at his belly button. “Do you stare at all your life models like this? If you do, I think I don’t want you to have any other model,” Stiles joked, reaching his hand out towards Derek, clenching and flexing his fingers to tell the older man that he wanted him to come to him. Derek complied, dropping down onto the blanket next to the teen, instantly pulling the younger male into a tight hug and a demanding kiss. Letting the older man take control, Stiles melted into the touch, smiling when they finally pulled apart. Snuggling into Derek and the faux fur blanket, Stiles whispered into the older man’s muscular chest as he drifted into sleep, “I’m sleeping right here, please don’t move me.” Derek felt his heart jump as the nearly asleep teen mumbled something so quietly that it was almost difficult to hear.

“Love you sourwolf.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the longer than usual wait between the update. My laziness hit a whole new level and it took me a while to get into writing this chapter. But i hope you enjoy it :)
> 
> I had to , I honestly had to make Derek draw Stiles like one of his french girls. The reference for Stiles pose is this image here - http://www.getthefive.com/media/uploads/gerst_m5.jpg . Whoever that model is please deliver him to my doorstep, just saying.
> 
> Chapter Title is from - Where Do We Draw The Line by Poets of The Fall, its such a pretty song by an amazing band. And I love how the lyrics can be interrupted and I honestly thinks it fits so well with this story and where this story is heading in my head. 
> 
> Be Warned People, you might hate me with the idea I have for the next chapter.


	25. Run

Derek slowly woke up the next morning, groaning at the ache in his back from sleeping on the floor all night; despite the quantity of cushions and blankets, he swore he could still feel the hardness of the wooden floorboards. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the older man frowned in confusion at the lack of warmth next to him. Becoming more aware of his surroundings, Derek couldn’t help but frown more as he realized that the hyperactive teen was no longer curled up next to him. Uncertainty filled the man’s thoughts as he began to wonder if Stiles had left early in the morning so that the teen wouldn’t have to face him, or if Stiles left because Derek had pushed too hard with whatever sort of relationship they were in. The uncertainty turned to dread as Derek began to question if Stiles left because he hadn’t returned the words ‘Love you’ the night before. A soft string of curses flowed from the kitchen, making Derek sigh in relief knowing that the teen hadn’t actually left. Pulling on the hoodie that he had worn to meet Stiles in the night before, the older man stumbled still slightly half-asleep through the living room towards the kitchen, smiling at the sight of the teen standing with his back to him at the oven.

 

“Should I expect to be woken up to you cursing at the oven now?” Derek chuckled, his smile widening as the teen flailed around to face him. Stiles was stood wearing only the boxer shorts that the teen had stripped out of the night before; completing the image was specks of flour that was sprinkled across the teens upper body, along with a stripe of batter that sat on the teen’s thigh and a spot of the mixture on the teen’s cheek. Stepping into the teen’s personal space, the older man licked curiously at the batter that rested on the younger male’s cheek, smirking as he pressed the first kiss of the morning against Stiles lips. “Mmm. Pancakes?” Derek asked curiously, grinning as the teen flailed, playfully slapping the older man’s upper arms.

“It was meant to be a surprise! Breakfast in bed, well not bed, seeing as we didn’t sleep in a bed. Breakfast on the floor in a pile of blankets then. But yeh, your oven is evil. It don’t like me, it won’t work!” Stiles rambled, twisting the nobs on the front of the cooker to emphasis his point. Chuckling softly, and pressing a kiss to the teen’s forehead, Derek leaned across the top of the oven, flicking a switch just above the appliance, “It generally works better if you turn it on at the mains.” Stiles gently back-handed Derek’s upper arm once more, mumbling in mock aggravation, “It’s generally works better if some people don’t decide its necessary to turn it off at the mains every time they’re done using it.”

Raising his arms in surrender, Derek kissed Stiles cheek, quickly dodging the blow from the wooden spoon that the teen was using to mix the pancake batter. Laughing as he sat down at the table in the kitchen, Derek watched the teen with fascination as Stiles worked his way around the unfamiliar kitchen.  “If you continue to stare at my arse sourwolf I will seriously throw this entire bowl of batter all over your head,” Stiles smirked, not turning to see Derek playfully sticking his tongue out behind the teens back.  “That sounds fine, it just means we would have more of an excuse to go share a shower again, seeing as I have such fun memories of the last time we did that,” the older man quipped, chuckling as Stiles raised his middle finger above his head, still refusing to turn away from the oven. “Okay then sourwolf, the pancakes are done. Breakfast is served.” The teen cheered a few minutes later, holding the plate high above his head.

 

“Now that’s a sound I have missed coming home too.”

 

Stiles froze in place at the sight of the scarred man filling the kitchen doorway, bringing the serving plate full of pancakes down from above his head. Derek spun around in fear at the familiar sound of the voice, the colour draining from his face as he saw his uncle staring at the half naked teen with a mixture of intrigue and lust. Moving slowly out of his seat, Derek walked cautiously towards the teen, feeling his uncle’s attention shift to him. The look that came with his uncle’s shift in attention was the usual predatory glare, which sent a rush of fear through Derek’s body. Finally moving to stand protectively next to the teen that stood shaking next to the oven, the art teacher placed a hand reassuringly in the small of Stiles back, whilst using his other hand to hold the plate to stop the teen from jumping and dropping it. As Derek predicted, the teen did jump slightly at the soft touch, before smiling gratefully at the man whose hand slowly relaxed the scared teen. “Why don’t you go put something on, there’s an Iron Man shirt in my room that should fit you.” Derek commented, his tone of voice pleading with Stiles to get out of the kitchen and away from the burned man that watched the pairs movements from the doorway. The teen nodded, letting Derek take hold of the plate that still remained half in his hands, before nervously walking towards the doorway that was still slightly blocked by the scarred man. Than man shifted barely out of the way, making Stiles have to squeeze past his form, flinching as a burned hand groped at the teens barely covered arse as he moved past. Having squeezed past, Stiles ran quickly up the stairs towards the room he had been in the night he had crashed at Derek’s house.

 

Peter waited until Stiles was halfway up the stairs, his lust-filled eyes following the teen’s movement, before he turned to face his glaring nephew. “A bit young isn’t he, but I can see why you like him so much… Very delectable.” Derek growled at his uncle in warning, receiving only a patronizing chuckle from the scarred man. “Oh, does little Derek not want to share his toys? Why am I not surprised, you never liked sharing your things even as a child. I could easily just do what Laura used to do… I could just take it,” Peter taunted, coming forwards to stand intimidatingly close to the younger Hale.

Derek couldn’t help but to glare up at the burn scars that covered the majority of his uncle’s face, before shifting his glare, matching the similar look of hatred that shone in the older man’s eyes. “If I want that jail-bait arse that you’ve paraded into my house. I will take it, whether he’s willing or not. I don’t care if he screams in pleasure or if he screams in pain. Both sounds would make me very, very happy.”

 

Neither of the Hale men knew when Stiles reappeared in the room; they only knew that he was present to see Derek’s self-control snap. The younger Hale’s face filling with rage, as he pushed the scarred man backwards out of his personal space, before swinging his fist into the older man’s cheek. The teen’s gasp had filled the room, drawing the young art teacher’s attention towards where the teen stood wide-mouthed in the doorway. Taking advantage of Derek’s momentary distraction, Peter kneed his nephew in the stomach, making the younger man double over, before punching him hard in the face.  As Derek fell to the floor, clutching at his stomach, Stiles watched as the scarred man began to kick at the man lying on the floor.

Rushing forwards, the teen pushed the older man in the back, momentarily stopping him from continuing the assault on Derek. Whilst the scarred man gathered his footing, Stiles moved quickly dragging his teacher to his feet, before pushing him out of the kitchen. Grabbing at a bag that he had brought down the stairs with him, Stiles pushed the keys for the Camaro into Derek’s hand before pushing him out of the house and towards his car as he shouted, “Get your arse into that car and fucking drive!” Jumping into his jeep, Stiles thanked the gods that he didn’t fall over during their escape as he reversed out of the Hale’s driveway quickly; reversing far enough for Derek to drive out as well, the teen followed the older man as both cars sped away from the house and the scarred man that now stood in the doorway watching their escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally got halfway through writing this chapter, when I stumbled onto the Teen Wolf wikipedia. I will say this now, I havent watched any of Season3 yet, cause i prefer to watch shows in a series bulk. So imagine my fucking surprise when I see the sudden arrival of a younger sibling which the writers have just shit out of no where.  
> So seeing as this is so AU, i refuse to acknowledge this Cora's existence just cause.
> 
> I will also say, please dont kill me for this chapter , but stay tuned for the next update, cause there is still quite a few crucial plot points and I dont know how long this story will end up being. This will defiantly not be the last you see of Peter though either......


	26. My Past Is Like A Nightmare

The pair ended up driving towards the Stilinski house; they both knew that it would be the safest place for them both to stay after the events that had occurred. With the speed they were travelling, it didn’t take them long to pull up outside the house; the teen was grateful that his father’s police cruiser was not parked in its usual spot. Stiles watched as Derek’s head dropped to rest against the steering wheel, jumping out of his jeep the teen moved to open the older man’s car door. Derek remained in his seat, acknowledging Stiles as the teen crouched down next to him, pressing a reassuring hand to the back of his neck before letting it fall down his bare arm, entwining their fingers together. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” Derek nodded at the teen, letting the younger male pull him out of the Camaro and into the house.

 

Stiles pushed the older man into a seat at the kitchen table, watching as Derek just stared at the table, refusing to look at the teen. Flinging a hoodie at the silent older man, Stiles ordered, “Put that on, it’s fucking cold and my dad doesn’t like me messing with the thermostat.” Derek looked at the hoodie for a moment before finally looking up in confusion at the teen, “How did you get this? I was wearing this yesterday; I left it in the living room last night.” Stiles let out a sigh of relief when the older man finally spoke, having feared that he had gone into shock. Sitting down in the chair next to across from him, Stiles waited as Derek pulled the hoodie across his bare chest, smiling softly as he watched the teacher snuggle into the thick fabric. “Did you not think to question the bag I ran out with? That dude kinda freaked me out so I grabbed some of your stuff from upstairs before grabbing all your stuff in the living room. I kinda shoved it all in your work bag. I’m not sorry.” Stiles rambled, squeezing at the older man’s hand, where Derek had gently reached to hold his own whilst he was talking. “You don’t need to apologize, I need to thank you,” The older man whispered, more to the room than towards the teen.  “Yeh you’re right, I don’t need to apologize, and you don’t need to thank me. You do need to explain though Derek.” Stiles demanded, frowning at the look of fear that appeared momentarily on the older man’s face, quickly followed by a look of desperation as Derek began to plead with the teen. “Stiles please don’t make me have to tell you. I don’t want you to think any less of me.”

“Derek, after what I’ve just seen. I need to know. I’m not gonna think any less of you, you bloody fool, and don’t give me that look, you are being a fool for thinking that I would think less of you.”

“Where do you want me to start?” Derek asked his voice devoid of emotion, as he hid the embarrassment of having to speak the truth of the secret that he had kept for over six years.  Stiles bit his bottom lip in worry, fearing that he had pushed too hard to find out the truth, he stammered, “I’ve heard the beginning works best.” The older man leaned across the table, pressing a loving but chaste peck against the teen’s lips, whispering against the flesh as he pulled away, “Just in case you think any less of me after hearing this, I just wanted to have one last kiss.” Falling back into his seat, Derek dragged his hands down his face, before he began explaining, his quiet voice somehow filling the room.

 

“I was sixteen when my house burnt down. Me and my older sister Laura were in school when it happened, but my mum, my dad and my little brother were home. I just remember wanting to get home really fast that day, because my mum had said that my aunt was coming to visit. Me and Laura were called to the principal’s office, we were told that there had been an incident and that our uncle had gotten out. He had been working late, he told his wife, my aunt, that he’d get to the house as soon as possible, but when he got there it was already fully on fire. He had tried to run inside to save his wife, and his two kids. The firemen pulled him out half alive. Laura was eighteen; she was old enough to find us a flat to rent whilst our uncle was in hospital being treated for his wounds. Our grandfather had died the year before, so our uncle was the only family left.”

Stiles watched as Derek, wiped away a stray tear that was slowly falling down his cheek. The teen squeezed the hand that he was still holding, slowly prompting the older man to continue with his story.

“When our uncle got out of the hospital, he was different. We hadn’t really seen since the death of our grandfather, but he changed; he had changed before the fire though. He was no longer the man who used to sit with us when we were younger, or throw vegetables at us across the dining table whilst our parents and his wife were trying to make us eat properly. He made us live with him, saying that it’s what family should do. He dragged us across the country on business trips that he wouldn’t tell us anything about. We didn’t even know what he did for a living. He used to be an elementary school teacher, but after the fire he never went back, instead having more and more secretive meetings. He also started drinking more, he also started turning violent.”

 

Stiles slowly stood up from the kitchen table, keeping a tight grip on Derek’s hand as he led the older man out of the kitchen and into the living room. Pushing the older man gently down into the couch, the teen sat next to him instantly wrapping his arms around the teacher, burying himself into the man’s chest. Derek soothingly rubbed the teen’s short hair, as the younger male sobbed softly; Stiles tears matching the ones running slowly down the older man’s face. “Was it your uncle who did this to you?” Stiles asked through his tears, his hand moving to rest on the fabric that stretched across the older man’s back, directly above the bright red scars that lay hidden underneath the hoodie. Resting a hand softly against the teens cheek, the slight movement of Stiles leaning into the gently caress calming the older man as he uneasily breathed through his tears, “Yes.”

 

Continuing, Derek explained how when he was seventeen, his uncle had declared he had enough of Beacon Hills, moving them to New York. By that point, Peter Hale had been beating him for six months, and Laura wasn’t aware. He used to claim that he got into a fight at school to stop his sister getting suspicious; his uncle had been very clear what he would do to his older sister if Derek was to tell her the truth. They stayed in New York for five years, his uncle leaving the siblings alone instead of bringing them along on business trips. His sister had helped him get into the Pratt Institute, whilst she studied Law at New York University School of Law. He told the teen how he and Laura would often book last minute holidays when their uncle disappeared off on business trips, how they travelled and enjoyed themselves, finally being able to live like a normal person.

The tears continued falling as Derek explained to Stiles, “Last year, when we were in Ibiza, she had just finished her degree, she told me that she wasn’t going back on the flight with me. She told me that she needed to find something out and she couldn’t do it near Peter. Laura told me that she had been slowly moving a small amount of our inheritance into a private bank account, and told me to go back to New York and pretend that I had never left with her. She then told me… she told me… I have had to pretend that my sister has been dead for an entire year! She told me to lie and say that I got a call from the hotel we were staying at, and tell our uncle that she had committed suicide. The worst thing is that he didn’t even care.”

 

Derek’s sobs filled the living room, the teen wrapping his arms tighter around the older man’s body.  Stiles hiccupped into the Derek’s chest as he softly sang to the distraught man;

“There was a time

I met a girl of a different kind.

We ruled the world,

I thought I’d never lose her out of sight.

We were so young, I think of her now and then.

I still hear the songs reminding me of my friend.”

 

“And you said I couldn’t sing!” Derek joked lightly with a smile, his tears falling slower. “You remembered the song I sung to you.” Stiles whispered, “Of course I do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this is a really rambly chapter, but I needed to explain a bit of Derek's back story. There is still a lot more to be learned, but that's for later in the story. But Stiles now knows and yh he's gonna give Derek lots of huggles. 
> 
> I had to make some element of Peter nice, cause I started writing this fanfic before I watched Season 2. I didn't like Peter in Season 1, unfortunately when I finally got around to his Season 2 return I was quite a few chapters into this story and when watching Season 2 I started liking Peter. From the few clips I've just watched of Season 3, I still like Peter. But yes by that point I couldn't change it, you don't realize how much it hurts to write evil Peter when he's my second fave character after Derek and Stiles being my joint first :P
> 
> Chapter Title is from The Moment by SafetySuit. Great song, just saying. Besides the line is such a great way to summarize Derek's past.
> 
> Still ignoring Season 3, so please let me know if more plot twists happen that fuck with my story, such as Cora or whatever her bloody name is.


	27. The Stilinski House

The pair spent the rest of the day lounging on the sofa; Derek had found his way onto a TV channel that was showing a marathon of Star Trek the Original Series, forcing the teen to watch it with him under promises that he would watch Sherlock afterwards. The older man slowly opened up about the extent of the abuse he received from his uncle, holding the teen tightly against his chest as he mentally relived years of torture. They stayed lying on the couch until the Sheriff returned home after his shift; Steve only raised an eyebrow at the pair before proclaiming that they were having take-out and quickly leaving. Stiles took that as his cue to climb out of his teacher’s lap, whilst Derek crawled into a seated position.

 

Derek was extremely grateful that the sheriff didn’t question the appearance of him sat shirtless on his sofa with the teen lying across his chest; he was even more grateful later on when the older man merely nodded over the take-away when Stiles asked if Derek could crash for a few days.  “Sure Stiles, few ground rules though. No offense Derek, but I know my kid, and if I told him that you two aren’t allowed to share a room, he’s just going to sneak into  your bed at two in the morning anyways.”

“Oh my god dad!” Stiles yelped, blushing bright red before he buried his head momentarily in his hands. Derek couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the light atmosphere that filled the kitchen table and the light jokey feeling that passed between the father and son. The sheriff joined in with Derek’s soft laughter, his own booming laugh spreading towards the embarrassed teen, before the older man continued, “So I will let you two share a room, as long as the door remains open Stiles, and no funny business either.”

 

The group continued over the small rules that the Sheriff put in place, the conversation slowly shifting into a few questions that the elder Stilinski wanted to know. Most of them were basic one, Steve trying to find out more about the man that was slowly filling his son’s heart; though the pair both directly changed the topic when the question about Derek’s age came up. “Listen if you two are not going to tell me how old he is Stiles, I will just find it out by myself.” Steve admonished the guilty pair, frowning when his son retorted. “Please, don’t give me that. You’d have to know his full name first Dad.”

“Which wouldn’t be difficult seeing as I could just pull up registration details for all Camaro’s in town. I doubt there’s many, and I doubt there’s more than one registered to a man named Derek.”

Quickly butting into the conversation before the teen could retort to his father, Derek began, “Sheriff Stilinski-”

“Steve.”

“Okay then, Steve. I know that you’re curious and forgive me if I’m wrong, slightly cautious, about my age. I will say that I am slightly older than Stiles, but not by much.” Derek stated, ignoring the frown that the teen was giving him from across the table. Thankfully the sheriff accepted the man’s answer, only mock-grumbling that he couldn’t believe his son was keeping secrets from him.  That resulted in Stiles throwing a fry at his father’s head, which quickly escalated to a mild food fight between the two Stilinski’s.

 

Derek couldn’t help but watch and be amazed at the effortless interactions between the father and son, occasionally feeling like he was intruding on something that he wasn’t worthy of seeing. It made him wish that he was able to sit around a table with his own family, with food that his father would cook every night; his mother had a bad tendency of cremating all the food that she ever tried to cook, including on one miraculous occasion Salad. Though his mother was defiantly no culinary goddess, Derek knew that he got his creative streak from her. They entire time they lived in the big house in the woods, they had only been able to use half of the dining table; the other half was always covered in scattered paint tubes and brushes. Before the fire destroyed everything, there had been a distinctive line across the table, one half long since ruined, permanently stained with a variety of paints in a range of colours; whilst the other half stood smooth and polished. The artist was pulled out of his memories when Stiles threw a fry, which hit him directly in the face. “You’re thinking too much Sourwolf.”

 

Derek slowly fell into a routine staying at the Stilinski’s, including the daily cheering up of the teen when Stiles found him searching through property sites. “You can’t expect your dad to let me stay here forever. Besides this way, we could have a little bit more privacy, maybe even a closed door,” The art teacher had explained to the younger male, as they climbed into their separate cars before heading towards the school. Stiles understood what the older man was getting at there, despite countlessly stating that his dad wasn’t gonna kick Derek out; it was true; the Sheriff had bonded with the art teacher, particularly on the subject of sports. The teen couldn’t be more shocked when he walked in after studying with Erica to see his dad and Derek screaming at the TV and the figures running about on the screen. The sight had shocked Stiles slightly, as before he left to meet up with Erica; Derek had commented that he felt awkward being in the house without the teen there with him. The hyperactive teen fell into the seat next to Derek, kissing the older man on the cheek, momentarily ignoring his father’s presence in the room as he whispered into his teacher’s ear, “See there was no reason to feel awkward at all.”

The Sheriff was also impassive towards the relationship that was clearly going on between his son and the man. Truthfully, both Stiles and Derek knew that the older man was only acting unaffected because he was trying to ignore the possibility that his son was engaging in sexual activities, and because the couple kept the displays of affection to the bare minimum. The simple touches the shared in front of the elder Stilinski, stretched from hand-holding to quick chaste kisses that the pair often continued in small moments of privacy. The most privacy they were able to grab was the short periods of time between the Sheriff coming back from a shift and the school hours. Stiles took full advantage of the short times, following Derek into the shower every time he knew his father was still at work.

 

Derek stood under the beating pulse of the Shower, the hot spray trickling down his scarred back as he tried to wake himself up for the day ahead. He couldn’t help but to smile slightly when he heard the sound of the bathroom door clicking open as Stiles unlocked the door from the outside with a coin, followed quickly by the sound of the teen cursing as he fought with his sleepwear. “You know you’d be sneakier if you didn’t decide to say ‘Fuck’ every other second,” the older man stated, as he felt the cold chill fill the shower as Stiles pulled the door open, jumping in beside him. “You know this would be more fun if you weren’t such a Sourwolf in the morning. We could just do this in the bed.” The teen pouted, kissing Derek’s lips once, before swiftly moving down his wet neck, biting softly at the skin before sucking a mark into it.

 Moaning softly at the tinge of pain that blended perfectly with the pleasure of the situation, Derek had to stop himself from pouting as he pulled away from the teen’s touch, “Your Dad’s already home. We really can’t do that right now.” Stiles groaned, pouting up at the older man, frowning when he watched Derek’s lust filled eyes skim up and down his body, widening as they saw the teen’s leaking erection. “I can’t believe you’re going to just cock-block me when I’m like this! Dude I want something, can’t we just do it like quietly so that my dad won’t here, cause I kinda need and want your help with this guy,” Stiles pouted, pointing at his member. Derek took a deep breath as he brushed his lips against the teens frowning forehead, testing his self-restraint as he whispered against the heated flesh, “I’m going to see a house later on, come with me and afterwards I will make it up to you for what I’m about to do.”

“Depends on what you’re about to do.”

The older man took another deep breath as he allowed himself to look the teen up and down once again, before opening the door to the shower, leaving the teen stood horny and hard. “This.”

 

“Oh my god! Derek you are such a sourwolf! I can’t believe you’re just gonna leave me like this! I am so going to get my revenge. I’m going to be a troll all day. You’re so gonna regret this sourwolf. Come on turn around, I’ll start my revenge now. Come on Derek, turn around. Watch me masturbate!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The burning Salad part, I shit you not my sister has done this. I don't even know how. Also you have no idea how much I wanted to write chip instead of fry. Damn you weird Americans. I'm sorry just kidding.
> 
> Again I found myself on the bloody Teen Wolf tag on tumblr, and once again I am refusing to even acknowledge Season 3. Does anyone else just really hope the writers realize that if they don't make Sterek canon, there gonna lose a lot of viewers probably. Yh I found out about Derek's latest gf btw. Not Impressed, refuse to acknowledge it.


	28. Jealous

Derek wanted to lock himself in his store cupboard half way through the double lesson with Stiles class. The hyperactive teen was trying to press all of the older man’s buttons; sticking his hand up asking for help, only to try to press himself as close as possible to Derek’s body. When the older man stopped going towards the teen, Stiles grinned devilishly before whipping his phone out of his back pocket, leaving Derek to watch as the teen typed rapidly on the touch-screen.

 

**I want 2 suck ur cockright herxe right now. XX – S**

**Come on sourwolwf. Dont u wantd me to suk ur cock? – S**

**Oi!11!!!!11! If u dont answer im gonna start rining ur phone.-S**

**Lets hve phnoe sex;) xx – S**

The older man could feel himself blushing with every text that popped up. He was thankful that his phone was on silent, he knew that if it wasn’t his ringtone would be going off constantly. However instead of his ringtone, Derek had to put up with his phone vibrating. He didn’t know where was worse, keeping the device in his hand or in his pocket, as the phone vibrated continuously with the constant stream of texts that the teen was sending.

 

**Awww is mr hale ingoirng me??? Have I been a nauhgty boyy??????- S**

**I think u shuld teach me to be gud;) – S**

**U ever considerd spanking/?? U culd slap my bare arse. –S**

**U could fuck it afrtewrads. Fuck it rwa. Hard and raw. Fuck me bare. Xx- S**

**God Derek. Im so fuking hornny. U shuold fuck me ofver ur desk right now. Xx- S**

**Breed me – S**

“Mr Stilinski, will you please hand me your phone. You are meant to be working on your project, not messing around on mobiles. You can have it back after the lesson.” Derek commanded, drawing the attention of the entire class; every student turned to focus onto the suddenly blushing teen as Stiles handed his phone over to the teacher.  “We will be having words after class Stiles,” Derek stated quietly, so that the rest of the students were unable to hear. “Looking forward to it Sir,” Stiles replied, winking at the older man as he rolled the letters in sir.  Derek pocketed the teen’s phone, moving to sit on his desk, as he tried to control the desire that the teen had sent coursing through his body with the text messages.

 

The lesson didn’t improve, with the lack of a phone; Stiles began to get more imaginative. Teasing Derek in a way that the older man was unable to call the teen out on it. Instead the art teacher just had to bite his lip to hold back a groan as he watched the hyperactive teen bring his pen to his lips; Stiles stared at the older man as he licked tentatively at the lid of the pen, watching Derek’s reactions as he slipped the pen between his lips momentarily, sucking at the plastic before letting it fall slightly from his mouth. The teen continued to discreetly practise the sex act on the pen, his eyes glued to Derek; the older man’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head as the teen began hitting the pen against his bottom lip suggestively.

Dropping his head into his hands, Derek tried to readjust himself in his trousers, giving up when he realized that to do so he would have to stand up and draw attention to the fact that he was painfully hard. It didn’t help that the jeans he was wearing were an old pair that he had grabbed hastily out of his wardrobe a few days ago, when he revisited his uncles house with Stiles. They were lucky that Peter’s car was absent from the drive, as they parked the Jeep, quickly running through the house, throwing things in a bag. Derek felt his heart drop when he saw his room had been wrecked by his uncle in one of his drunken rages. Thankfully he was able to find his treasured items; which he hid at the bottom of his wardrobe under a floorboard he took up when they first moved into the house; were undamaged. They were mainly old photographs, but there were also a few of his sister’s old things that he hadn’t put into storage with the rest of her things. Stiles carefully placed them in the bag they brought along, leaving Derek to frown at the state of his clothes; Peter had hacked at them all, leaving them in shreds and tatters. Only a few items escaped the attack, however the majority were from a few years previously and were now slightly too small for the older man’s frame. Nevertheless, the pair chucked them in the bag, grabbing at his phone charger and his external hard-drive, determining that everything else, such as clothes and art supplies could be replaced.

 

Looking up, Derek frowned when he noticed Stiles was no longer sat in the bean-bag that he had been in earlier. Glancing around the room, the older man’s frown deepened when he spotted the teen perched on the same bean-bag as the kid he knew to be Danny. Out of the corner of his eye, Derek noticed that he wasn’t the only one frowning at the sudden change in seats. Jackson frowned over the top of Lydia’s head at how close Stiles was sitting next to Danny. Both Jackson’s and Derek’s frowns shifted into glares as Stiles flailed slightly, due to how he was perched on the beanbag, falling face-first into the gay teens lap. Danny picked Stiles up, laughing loudly as he moved the bright red teen so that he was sitting in his lap.

Any desire that Derek had in his body vanished as he watched Stiles giggle along with the gay teen; the sight of his hyperactive teen being pressed so close to someone else, made the older man reel with jealousy. The interaction between Stiles and Danny, clearly bothered Jackson as well, with the teen standing up ignoring the sudden yells emanating from his red-headed girlfriend; Lydia’s yells caught the attention of both Danny and Stiles, the pair turning in time to see Jackson throwing the door into the wall as he stormed out of the art studio. Danny’s mouth fell open in shock, his eyes widening in fear as the red-headed girl turned towards him, already choosing him as her next target to scream at. Stiles moved awkwardly off of the gay teens lap, moving back across the room to his original seat whilst Danny snapped back at Lydia, before running out of the room following after his best friend. With another departure, Lydia turned her attention towards where Stiles sat sheepishly in his usual corner.

 

Glancing at the clock, Derek decided to quickly announce to the room, “Okay guys, seeing as none of you will probably get any more work done today, I’m going to let you all leave early. Go on now off you go, that includes you Lydia. Stiles, you remain behind.” The older man watched as the red-headed girl huffed, storming out with the rest of the class. Stiles remained looking sheepishly at the floor, but Derek cut him off as the teen opened his mouth to speak. “I have to ask do you realize what you just did? Jesus Stiles you had to piss off the teen with one of the biggest anger issues in the entire school.”

“I didn’t know-”

“You didn’t know! Stiles you were on Lacrosse with him for a year, you know he’s got an anger problem; the entire school knows he does. I have to ask what were you thinking going to flirt with his boyfriend? Was that just a way for you to piss me off, or do you actually want him?” Derek asked as he tried to keep his tone level, trying to hide how angry and upset he was. The older man watched as Stiles shifted from the bean-bag, moving to stand in front of the teacher before he replied with tears threatening to spill, “I’m sorry. I was just messing around. Danny is a friend, that is all, I didn’t know. I was just trying to be silly; I didn’t know he was going to pull me into his lap. It’s just what he does with his friends, he’s always sits Lydia in his lap, he even makes Jackson sit in it. It’s just a friendly thing Danny does; I didn’t realize Jackson was gonna. I didn’t realize. I didn’t know.”

 

Tears had begun to fall from Stiles eyes, the sight breaking the older man’s heart as he pulled the teen into an embrace, letting the younger man cry into his shirt. “You don’t realize how angry I was when I saw you cuddled up to him. I have never felt so jealous in my life,” Derek mumbled into Stiles ear, mentally slapping himself at the comment, as the teen’s cries grew louder and his hands clutched the fabric of the older man’s shirt even tighter. “I’m sorry, shhh don’t cry Stiles. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Derek took to gently rocking the teen from side to side in the embrace, stroking his short hair as the tears slowly stopped. He knew that it would be very difficult to explain the situation if someone was to walk past the open door right now and see them like this, checking his watch he sighed in relief to see that classes were still in session for another five minutes. Detangling himself from Stiles, the older man held a finger up telling the teen to give him a moment. Stiles nodded, rubbing at his red eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie, as Derek moved to close the classroom door. With the door closed, the older man moved back towards Stiles pressing a soft kiss against the teen’s forehead, before moving down to place another one against the teens quivering lips. “Don’t worry I forgive you, but please don’t do that to me again. I’ve never felt so jealous before.”

 

“I’m sorry. I’ll buy you curly fries as a way to earn that forgiveness.” Stiles smiled, throwing himself into Derek’s arms, burying his head in the older man’s chest. The soft vibration of the older man’s laugh and the familiar sound of the older man’s erratically beating heart soothed the teen. “Curly Fries, sounds like that’s a treat for you not for me,” Derek chuckled into the teen’s ear, pressing a soft kiss to the side of Stiles head. He hated the momentary feeling of anger that he had felt towards the teen, and he wanted to show the kid just how much he actually cared to earn his own unspoken forgiveness.

“Well it’s not my fault you still haven’t learned the pure awesomeness of Curly Fries… by the way, dude. Earlier you said Danny was Jackson’s boyfriend, I think your brains been fried. You know the Red-Headed She Devil that goes by the name Lydia. You know Jackson’s girlfriend. Besides the dudes like three hundred per cent straight.” Stiles rambled, receiving a raised eyebrow response from the older man. Derek chuckled as he replied, “Well considering what I caught Jackson and Danny doing in the Janitors Closet, I think me and you have two different definitions of Straight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My baby, (this fanfic) is starting to grow up so fast. 40,000 words. I never usually achieve past 10,000. I will actually probably cry in the very distant future when this baby finishes. Don't worry that's not gonna happen anytime soon though.
> 
> On other news, I passed my first year at uni with a 2.1 grade. Just barely got that grade by like 0.8%. I nearly failed one of my essay's though, it was an awful subject which i didn't like or understand, and the entire 2,500 words through it I was just sat going can I give up and write See Through instead.  
> But that essay is no longer my problem, and can go such a dick in the furthest reaches of my harddrive.
> 
> I will be probably be doing a small one shot of what Derek caught Jackson and Danny doing. Probably Possibly.


	29. Realtor

Derek and Stiles waited for the bell to ring out before making their way towards the two cars parked side by side in the schools parking lot. The teen had pestered the art teacher for the five minutes before the bell rang, trying to find out what exactly the older man had seen Danny and Jackson doing in the janitors closet. Derek had given up, telling the teen after making the hyperactive kid promise not to tell anyone else, receiving a ‘Dude, who would I tell anyways? Besides I know that if I told anyone it would look suspicious seeing as only you saw them and that would make Danny and Jackson realize you told me and blah blah blah.’ The older man had smirked and cuffed Stiles around the back of the head before pulling the teen forwards by his shirt; dragging him into a ferocious kiss that left both of them panting, wanting more.

 

They drove back to the Stilinski house in their separate cars; however Derek remained sat in the Camaro, watching as Stiles slammed the door to his jeep before skipping towards the passenger side of the Black muscle car. The older man couldn’t help but laugh as the teen practically fell face first into the vehicle; Derek barely gave the teen enough time to do up his seat-belt before he began to speed down the street. He knew that they were going to end up slightly later than the time he had arranged to meet the estate agent at the house he was looking at. Derek didn’t mind being late, despite his best efforts of being on time; he wanted Stiles to come with him to see the house as he knew that the teen would probably end up visiting him and staying over a lot, and if that was the case he wanted Stiles to help him choose where to live.  Derek turned to glance at Stiles, getting lost in the smile that filled the teen’s face, and the golden eyes that drew him in. He didn’t realize until he heard Stiles scream his name that he had gotten lost in staring at the teen, and had nearly run a red light; braking quickly, the pair jolted forwards in the car, before coming to an abrupt stop an inch away from the line. “Eyes on the road Derek! If I wanted to die from a car accident I would rather be in my piece of crap Jeep.” The older man was frozen in fear, shocked at himself as he watched the speeding traffic crossing the road in front of him; if he had continued driving he would have no doubt about it ended up in an accident. Dread spread through him as he reached across the hand break to clutch at Stiles hand, reassuring the older man that they hadn’t gotten hurt, “I’m sorry Stiles. I didn’t realize the lights had changed. I’m sorry, are you okay?” The teen squeezed Derek’s had reassuringly, bringing it up to kiss the older man’s larger hand in an attempt to calm them both down slightly, “Hey no harm done, just no more attempting to run the red lights on main roads… Please.” Nodding, Derek shifted into first slowly driving forwards as the traffic light changed to green.

 

They didn’t get to the house too late for the appointment with the realtor, arriving only a minute or two later than the set time. It didn’t stop the blonde woman from sighing in distaste acting as if they were twenty minutes late instead of two. Stiles took an instantly disliking to the woman, glaring as she immediately ignored the teen, instead latching onto the older man’s arm as she dragged him towards the show-house leaving Stiles to follow after them. Derek couldn’t help but to smile awkwardly as the blonde realtor began to unprofessionally push herself closely into his side, her fake-tanned bronze hand squeezing at his bicep as she led him through the front door. “Ooh do you work out?” she praised as she squeezed his arm once more, before her hand trailed up to curl around his shoulder. The older man could feel the teen’s unimpressed glare burning into his back, knowing that Stiles was probably feeling the same way Derek had felt earlier with the way the teen had interacted with Danny; the difference in this situation being that the older man was in no way interested in even a friendly relationship with the touchy woman.

The teen popped up on Derek’s other side as the trio stood in the hallway, interlinking his fingers with older man as Stiles put on a large fake smile that matched the blonde realtors as he mocked, “Yes he does, don’t you darling. You wouldn’t believe what I have to do to make him stop, amount of times I’ve had to walk past butt-naked just to get his attention away from exercise.” Derek bit back a snort, as he watched the blonde females face turn stony, before she practically forced her half-exposed cleavage closer against his body. “Maybe he’s just not that interested in little boys who are trying too hard to be men,” the blonde female snapped at the teen, before turning to smile widely at the older man once again, “Now Mr Hale, if you’d follow me, I’ll start by showing you the master bedroom. I’m sure you’ll be very impressed with it.” Derek could feel the anger radiating off the teen, placing a hand comfortingly against the back of Stiles neck before he got forcefully dragged by the arm up the stairs.

“Lovely large space, you could easily fit a King Size Bed in here, with plenty of room for other furniture.” The blonde female, who insisted for Derek to call her Kylie, pranced around the large empty room. Stiles couldn’t help but look at her in disgust, hoping that her stupidly high heels would break, sending her falling to the floor. The older man however sensed that there would be no way to make the impossibly fake Kylie realize that he wasn’t interested, decided to just see how far he could push her before she got the picture. Derek turned to wink quickly at the glaring teen that stood next to him clutching his hand, beaming widely he rejoiced, “OH Kylie you are so right. Stiles we could defiantly get a king size bed, it would stop us falling off that bloody double bed when we’re fucking. I tell you Kylie, the bruises on my arse from falling onto the floor. Unbelievable.” Stiles practically snorted at the older man’s comment but decided to play along with whatever game he was playing, wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck, he announced to the room, “Ooh we should get a bad with metal bars. I keep meaning to try out those handcuffs that we got a few weeks ago.” The two males had to bite back a laugh as they watched the blonde realtor glare at them, her glare being most prominently aimed at the teen. “Kylie, I would love for you to show us the kitchen, this one honestly loves throwing me onto the counter and fucking me so hard. We need to make sure that the worktops will work for us,” Stiles enthused, his smile growing wider with the anger that radiated off of the blonde female in front of them. He couldn’t fight the soft giggle that escaped as he watched her storm out of the master bedroom, trying to fold her arms across her unbelievably large fake chest.

 

The pair continued playing the game, trying to push the realtor more as they went through every room. They finally pushed her to the limit when they were shown the main bathroom, Derek had stared at the shower, whilst Stiles had stated with wide-eyes and a mischievous smile, “It’s perfect, we would have so much more room to blow each other. I mean I know our current shower is big, but this. This is beautiful! We should get the tiles done in black, so that when you fuck me up against the wall, the cum will stand out awesomely.” Derek had to hold himself up from laughing so much, as he knew that the teen’s comment was actually genuine this time, unlike all the previous times there was always a sense of mocking in the younger male’s voice. The realtor obviously realised the truthful enthusiasm in the younger man’s voice as she frowned and walked out of the bathroom leaving them alone in the room.

“What did I say that made you laugh so much?” The teen asked mildly confused as he turned with a raised eyebrow to look at the older man. Derek chuckled once more, moving forwards to pull Stiles into a chaste kiss as he softly laughed against the teen’s lips, “Just you being you.” Pressing another kiss against the older man’s lips, Stiles asked, “So you gonna buy one of these big houses?” Nudging the teen softly with his nose, as he nuzzled into the side of Stiles head, Derek responded with a question, “That depends, do you like the house?” The teen nodded softly, leading the older man to nod in a belated answer to the teen’s previous question.  Whooping in joy for Derek, Stiles asked with a child-like excitement, “Can I help you decorate?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silly blonde (tarty) realtor. I had to do a jokey/ cheery chapter. I just had too. Now as I don't know anything about America, I am going to presume that with new housing estates in England, You go to a show-home you decide if you like it and buy a house in the same style on the estate. You just like pick what colour carpet or flooring you want, what tiles you want and what kind of kitchen you want. I'm presuming you do that in America as well. Damn my ignorance.
> 
> Now i know that a few people didn't like Stiles texting in the Jealous Chapter. I have to just explain. I write Stiles text like that as a way to take the piss out of my own texting. Despite the fact that my phone is huge touch-screen, I find it bloody difficult to write without clicking on the wrong letter. Personally I don't bother correcting it, and I can see Stiles not bothering either. So yes you might find it annoying and the misspelling is ruining the effects of sexy messages. Stiles wasn't trying to be sexy he was trying to be a pest, and if you were honestly attracted to someone you wouldn't give a shit if they sent you messages like that and it was misspelled. Sorry mini-rant/explanation over. 
> 
> Anyways hope's you enjoy.


	30. Erica

Derek sat in a pair of slouch pants on the couch in the Stilinski’s living room, smiling at where the hyperactive teenager was sat in front of him. Stiles was sat on the floor leaning back against the older man’s legs as he trawled through various websites and online stores. Derek had brought the house that the pair had gone to see; he quickly sorted through the tiles, flooring and kitchen units he wanted. The older man had to hold back a laugh in the real-estate office when asked about what tiles he wanted, as Stiles voice had filled the room demanding black in all the bathrooms. Derek had just nodded when the realtor pointedly ignored the teen and asked the older man if that was what he wanted.

The art teacher had practically allowed the teen to have free-range on decorating the older man’s new house; that didn’t mean that Derek hadn’t refused when Stiles started prattling on about having a Captain America living room and a Batman bedroom. The older man had cut off the teen’s ramble about how cool it would be by stating, “You’re not turning the house into you’re comic book wet dream. What are you five?” The teen had left Derek spluttering as Stiles moved off of the floor, crawling on top of the older man; pulling him into a fiery kiss that left Derek painful hard, Stiles mumbled against his lips, “Nope, when I was five I was still obsessed with Scooby Doo. I’d say around thirteen when I discovered my love for comic books. Why? Is my mental age too young for you Mr Hale?”

 

The teen pouted, moving to crawl off of the older man’s lap only to have Derek pull him back towards his chest. The older man captured the teen’s bottom lip in between his teeth, playfully nipping at the flesh before attacking the teen’s lips. His hand snuck down Stiles shirt, tugging at the belt that was keeping the jeans from falling down the younger male’s skinny hips. Finally undoing the belt, Derek glared at it before throwing the offending item across the room. “If you break anything by throwing my clothes across the room, you’re fixing it sourwolf,” Stiles moaned against the older man’s lips, messily kissing him.  The older man growled in response, flipping their positions so that Stiles was laid out flat on the sofa; the teen’s eyes widened in shock and lust as Derek began biting his way down Stiles neck, pawing at the shirt that covered the teen’s chest. Understanding what Derek was wordlessly demanding, Stiles tugged the fabric away from his body throwing the shirt blindly away. Chuckling softly, the older man remarked against the teen’s neck, “If you break anything by throwing your clothes across the room, you’re fixing it Red.”

Stiles giggle quickly changed into a moan, when Derek shimmied down the teen’s chest and attached his mouth to one of the perk nipples. The older man’s tongue circled the bud, as his hand came up to play with the other one. The teen’s moans continued to fill the room as he began jerking his hips up against the older man’s stomach; the coarse material of his jeans was not enough for the younger male, as he worked on of his hands in between their bodies to rub himself through the denim. “Did I say you could do that?” Derek asked hitching an eyebrow at the teen who groaned at the sudden lack of a tongue on his nipple. Stiles whimpered in response as the older man moved further south, licking his way down into the teen’s belly-button before dipping towards the waist of the younger males jeans.  

 

The shrill ring of the doorbell caused both males to groan, Stiles whined to the room, “Go Away.” Groaning again, Derek pouted as he pressed a kiss against the spot he had reached when licking down the teen’s abdomen before pushing himself off of the younger male’s body, ignoring the whine of disapproval. “I’ll be back in a minute,” the older man muttered to the teen as he pressed a kiss against Stiles lips. Moving out of the living room Derek tried to ignore the way he was probably going to look when he opened the door, with his ruffled hair, bare chest covered in old and new bite marks, as well as his tented slouch pants that were sitting dangerously low on his hips. Reaching the door, he manoeuvred himself so that when opened, the person on the other side would hopefully be unable to see hid erection. Swinging the door open, Derek felt his heart drop and his arousal disappear at the similarly shocked face that stared back at him. “Mr Hale? I was looking for Stiles, we were meant to hang out. What are you doing here? And why are you half dressed?”

Derek tried to force himself to speak, unconsciously letting the door open further, allowing the person in front of him to see his dwindling problem for earlier, “Erica-”

Stiles voice echoed from the living room, as the teen shouted, “Derek who is it? Dude hurry up I want you to continue from where you left off. Or you could totally start again, I would so not complain about that.”

The older man brought his hand to his face, rubbing soothing circles into his temple and to attempt to hide the embarrassment that was making him blush. “Perhaps you should come in so we can explain. This is not how it looks Erica.” The blonde girl nodded as she stepped over the threshold, asking as she moved, “So if it’s not how it looks, you weren’t about to fuck one of your students?” The blonde teen watched, smirking as the art teacher began to grabble for a response, the blush that dominated his cheeks becoming more and more prominent. Erica was left awkwardly standing in the hall as Derek moved ahead of her to make sure that Stiles was decent and not about to expose himself in front of his friend. The girl couldn’t help but chuckle as she heard the hyperactive teen’s string of curses followed by a high pitched yell, “Derek where the fuck did you throw my shirt!” Which was quickly followed by Derek’s deep shout, “How the hell should I know, you’re the one who chucked that. I threw your belt.”

 

When the female finally walked into the living room, she couldn’t help but smirk at the awkward way Stiles was crossing his legs in an attempt to hide the obvious bulge of his hard on in his jeans. The thoughts that had been running through Erica’s head ever since the lunch-time catch up lesson she had with the art teacher, and she had watched the way the hyperactive teen and the teacher interacted with each-other. Now as she watched where they both were sat on the couch, pressed so close together that Stiles left side looked like it was moulded into Derek’s right; their interlocked hands rested casually on the art teachers jittering knee. “So… How long you two been fucking then?” Erica’s voice broke the uncomfortable silence that was filling the living room. Stiles could feel himself blush as the older man reassuringly squeezed the teens hand; Stiles blush deepened as he mumbled, “We haven’t… He and I… We… Not… Haven’t done it yet.”

“Erica, I know what you must think. But I swear it is nothing like that. I honestly care for Stiles; I’m not just some fucked up pervert trying to get his fix with a younger person. I would appreciate that even if you don’t approve of this, that you don’t go and tell anyone about it,” Derek explained, feeling his heart jump slightly as the younger male looked up adoringly into his face, before cuddling further into his side.

Erica watched the way her best friend practically turned into a puppy-dog around the teacher; smirking at how the older man developed a similar reaction. “I won’t tell anyone. But damn Stiles, you had to get the beefcake of Beacon Hills. Damn you… can I trade you my comic collection for him!” The girls reaction had both males in fits of laughter, Stiles fear of being rejected by the person who had quickly become his new bet friend disappearing the moment Erica joked about the situation; Whilst the relief that Stiles still had the girl for a friend made Derek fall into the ease of the two teen’s laughter. Pressing a kiss to the top of the younger males head, Derek untangled himself from the teen, moving towards the blonde girl. Holding his hand out, the older man mock-introduced himself to Erica, “Hi, my name is Derek. I hope you approve of me dating Stiles.”

 

“Dude move the hand out of the way, I’m so hugging you instead. Sorry Stiles, I’m just using this as an excuse to feel up your boy’s hot bod. Derek I don’t care if you are teacher, I would have so jumped on your stick if Stiles hadn’t already dibsed it,” Erica stated, wrapping her arms around the older mans muscled chest, causing Derek to laugh loudly with the teen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Urgh, if this chapter is wank I apologize. I am currently melting in the oven that is called my room. Seriously I live in England, it should be illegal to be this fucking warm. It should be.
> 
> But yes, I wanted Erica to know and approve of Stiles and Derek. I also didnt want Derek to move out straight away cause in real life that just doesn't happen.
> 
> But yes hope you enjoy.


	31. Home Decor

Erica hung out with the pair for the rest of the afternoon. Derek left momentarily to get drinks, returning to sit awkwardly as the blonde female asked curiously about the bright scars that covered his back. Stiles had instinctively reached out to squeeze the older man’s hand at the subject of conversation, receiving a soft kiss on the cheek. Derek knew that the blonde female had noticed more than just the scars on his back; he saw her eyes drop to the large scar on his hip, despite its appearance being less noticeable than the criss-crossing marks running across his spine. The older man was grateful that the girl didn’t question further when he politely told her that the scars occurred via an incident which he didn’t want people knowing about. The question of Derek’s scars became ignored, as the trio fell onto the sofas to watch a copy of the latest Marvel film which the teacher did not question how they managed to acquire; Stiles quickly wormed his way into the older man’s lap within five minutes of the opening title.

 

The female left after watching a few films and eating take-out pizza, leaving the male couple to slowly make their way towards Stiles bedroom. Full on pizza and soda, Stiles flopped aimlessly onto his bed, groaning in discomfort at every slight movement.  “You wouldn’t be so uncomfortable if you hadn’t wanted a seventh slice of pizza,” Derek berated as he stripped the teen down to his boxers, before pulling the duvet out from underneath the usually hyperactive male. Crawling in behind where Stiles lay, the older man tugged the covers over them, smiling as the teen curled immediately into his side.  Derek couldn’t help but smile as he watched Stiles clutch the black wolf toy; the one that the older man has asked him to look after weeks before, to his chest. “Dereeek! It’s cold,” Stiles whined into his pillow as he pulled the older man’s arms tighter around him, trying to gather as much body heat as possible. The older man rolled his eyes, but tightened his hold around the teen’s chest and waist, tugging him backwards so that their bodies were pressed firmly against each other. “You wouldn’t be this cold if you didn’t insist on leaving your bedroom window wide open, despite it being the middle of November,” Derek chastised, secretly snuggling into the back of the teen’s neck.

The older man loved spooning with the younger male; he’d been sleeping better than he had during the years prior to meeting the teen. He didn’t want to admit, but Derek was scared of what would happen when his house was finally done; the older man highly doubted that the Sheriff would allow his son to stay overnight there. Derek knew that the lack of privacy at the Stilinski house, allowed Steve not to dwell on the thought of his son having a sexual relationship.  The older man squeezed the teen tighter, already missing the feel of the kid in his arms; he was set to move out the week before Thanksgiving, and the thought of being alone in a big empty house made Derek slightly depressed. “Derek if you don’t stop being mopey I’m gonna make you sleep on the floor,” Stiles breathed, refusing to open his eyes to glare at the older man.  Chuckling softly against the skin on the teen’s neck, Derek replied, “You wouldn’t kick me out of the bed. You’d be cold if you did that.”

“I wouldn’t I’d just call Danny over,” the teen smirked, knowing that the mention of the gay teen still caused the older man to get insanely jealous. As if on cue, Derek growled at the name that was on Stiles lips, biting at the back of the teen’s neck in warning, “Go to sleep or I’ll put you on the floor.” The smirk on the teen’s face spread into a wide grin, snuggling into both the pillow and the body behind him, Stiles whispered as he drifted to sleep, “Love you, my jealous sourwolf.”

 

With less than two weeks to go until Derek was given the keys to his new house, the pair were spending countless hours on the internet, ordering furniture to fill the big empty place. Stiles had ordered a lot of the furniture, leaving the older man to just hand over his credit card after looking at the images of the products. Derek only ordered a few things, leaving the majority for the teen; he couldn’t help but question why Stiles enjoyed the idea of decorating so much. However the older man had been the one to order the bed, fearful of what would happen if he let the teen decide; Derek had images of a racing car bed turning up.

The teacher had also chosen the couch which they had ordered, as well as the TV for the living room, with Stiles ordering a set of bookshelves for the room as well. The older man had frowned and questioned the point of the shelves, making the teen rhetorically ask where Derek was going to put all of his books and DVD’s. The older man had been slowly rebuilding his collection of books, DVD’s and video games, having left the majority at his uncle’s house when he had left. Along with the art supplies that he had brought, Stiles has surrendered a corner of his room for the boxes.

 

Derek had taken the teen shopping in the next town over, reluctantly allowing Stiles to drive in the unreliable jeep; the older man swore the jeep wouldn’t even make it halfway, receiving a slap to his arm from the teen for doubting the vehicle. They had walked hand in hand through the mall, the teen dragging the older man into countless home décor shops. Their hands were filled with bags full of cushions, blankets and trinkets within twenty minutes of shopping, making them take a trip back towards where they parked the jeep to dump the stuff. “I can’t believe you’re making me go back in there to buy more stuff,” Derek chuckled as Stiles fingers, now free of bags, slipped back into the older man’s hand. “You haven’t even got enough furniture for that house yet, let alone enough shit to make it look awesome. I’m not spending too much am I? Oh god I’m so making you bankrupt! Derek you should have told me to stop, Oh god!” Stiles rambled, his fingers unintentionally squeezing painfully around the older man’s hand.  

“Stiles! Relax. I have more than enough money,” Derek reassured, carefully prying the teen’s fingers out of the death-lock they had on his hand. With his hand free, he wrapped his arm around the younger male’s shoulders, pulling Stiles into his body in a side-hug. “Are you sure? You’re not just saying that right?” The teen continued, biting at the bottom of his lip in worry, slowly drawing blood. Derek halted, swinging the teen around so that he was stood in front of the older man; leaning forwards to capture Stiles in a soft kiss that eased the worry that was sitting in the teen’s chest. The older man sucked on the teen’s bottom lip, his tongue running over the small puncture mark caused from where Stiles had bit it. “I’m sure Red, now come on you’ve still got so many rooms that need your decorative touch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. i have literally just pulled this chapter out of my arsehole. It is such a filler but I needed one there before I could move ahead. Don't worry actual plot in the next chapter I swear.
> 
> I have to apologize again. I'm sorry.
> 
> On a funny note, we found a thankfully unopened condom at work last week. The awkward thing is, it has to belong to a member of staff cause we found it in the compartment underneath the seat on one of our powerboats. It's like Oh Banana Flavored Condom... this has to belong to one of the staff. AWKS...


	32. Hazard Lights

The pair spent the rest of the day in the mall, visiting more Home Décor shops, as well as book and DVD shops. Derek was insistent that the teen didn’t need to worry about over spending; after a while Stiles became less worrisome about the cost of things, and began helping the older man find stuff again. By the time they were ready to stop for lunch, they had accumulated; a pair of bedside lights which the teen had chosen for the older man’s bedroom, a variety of both dark blue and black bedding, as well as two ‘teddy-bear’ blankets which Stiles insisted upon due to how soft they were. Despite Derek’s efforts to advice the teen against the blankets, they still ended up in the basket; the older man just sighed, making a mental note that one of the blankets can be put on the back of the sofa, whilst the other could be used as a spare. He didn’t want the teen to know that he had brought the teen a few surprise things for the house, including the reason behind the blue bed sheets; a superman blanket.

 

“Where else do you need to go?” Stiles asked through a mouthful of the sandwich he was eating. Derek knew he should have been slightly disgusted at the lack of manners, but instead he just smiled and admired the teen’s dorky smile. 

“I need to get some new clothes, if that’s okay? You can help me if you like?” The older man replied, his grin widening as he practically saw the string of perverted thoughts run through the younger male’s mind. Chuckling softly, Derek leaned across the table they were eating their lunch at to press a soft kiss against the teen’s lips. Breaking apart, Stiles giggled as he nudged their noses gently together in an Eskimo kiss; Derek joined in with the laugh, before sneaking his hand around the back of the teen’s neck and pulling him forwards into a more demanding kiss than the one previous. The older man couldn’t get over the thrill of being able to kiss Stiles in public, without the fear of someone they knew seeing them.

 

When they were done with their lunch, Derek led Stiles into the branded clothes shop he usually brought from. The teen helped fill the basket the older man grabbed with various shirts and jeans as well as essentials such as underwear and socks. Derek was staring at a leather jacket, debating if he should replace his old one when he realized that the teen was no longer standing by his side. Eyes scanning around the shop the older smiled as he spotted the teen standing at a display of comic book graphic tees. Stalking towards him, the older man stood behind the teen without arousing Stiles to his presence, as the teacher looked at the shirt designs over the younger man’s shoulder. Derek noticed the way Stiles was almost staring longingly at the t-shirts; smirking to himself the older man alerted himself to the teen’s presence, chuckling as Stiles flailed at the sudden close proximity.

Reaching around the teen, Derek grabbed one of the Loki, Captain America, Batman and Superman shirts in a size small ignoring the raised eyebrow on the younger man’s face. “Dude, you’ve just picked up like all Smalls, and no offense but with your muscles, so not gonna fit you,” Stiles began, moving to collect the same shirt sizes in a different size for the older man.

“There not for me there for you, I know you like them characters,” Derek stated, moving the pile of shirts out of Stiles hands, placing them back on the display. With the shirts put down, the older man suddenly found his arms full of the teen; Stiles wrapped his arms around the teacher’s neck his hands grabbing at the older man’s hair as he pulled Derek down so that their lips, teeth and tongues clashed together. When the kiss ended, the older man couldn’t help but quietly groan at the arousal that was filling him. Stiles, unaware of the art teachers arousal breathed against his lips in a barely there touch, “I love you.”

 

“I know,” Derek smiled, readjusting himself in his trousers as Stiles turned away to search the rest of the shop for more clothes for the older man. The teacher watched as the teen’s eyes lit up with a light that Derek knew meant nothing good was going to occur; he followed after Stiles as the mischievous teen grabbed at a pair of skin-tight jeans made from a material that imitated leather. The older man rolled his eyes at the offending item as the teen threw them in the basket, before he decided to play Stiles at his own game. “Do you like leather or something?” Derek asked as he linked their hands together, before leading the teen back towards the underwear section. The older man had seen it earlier and thought nothing of it but after the trousers that Stiles had decided to put in the basket, Derek wanted to see how far he could tease his teen lover. Grabbing at the offending item, the older man turned back towards the blushing teen, “Seeing as you like leather so much, maybe you should try these on Red.”

Stiles gaped momentarily at the leather jockstrap before looking up into the smirk that filled the older man’s face. He instantly knew what Derek was doing as soon as he saw the smirk; deciding to play along the teen grabbed at the leather underwear before sauntering towards the changing room. Stiles couldn’t believe what he was doing, but he trusted the older man. Walking in to one of the stalls, the teen closed the door, taking a few calming breaths as he slipped the lock into place and began to strip out of his clothes.

 

Derek followed the teen as he walked towards the changing room, waiting outside the stall as Stiles locked the door. Sinking to the floor, the older man watched the small gap under the door as more of the teens clothes fell to the ground. He felt his trousers tighten again at the simple act of seeing a pile of Stiles clothes on the floor under the door; he knew it was because it meant behind the door the teen stood about to put on the thing that Derek meant to be a joke. Although he had initially meant for the leather jockstrap to be a joke, the thought of Stiles stood wearing just that made the older man’s heart beat faster and his blood travel south. The older man leapt to his feet as he heard the lock unbolt and the door slowly creep open to reveal the half-naked teen. Stiles stood awkwardly, as Derek’s eyes bulged at the sight in front of him. The small piece of leather left little the imagination, the strap around the waist drawing attention to the teen’s skinny hips; looking in the mirror behind the teen, Derek saw the leather highlighting Stiles perfect arse. Gulping momentarily, the older man coughed before closing the changing room door separating himself from the teen, “We’re buying them.”

The older man tried to calm himself whilst he waited for Stiles to get redressed, giving up and instead just readjusting himself through his jeans when he stood up. He knew that this time his arousal didn’t go unnoticed to the teen, as the younger male teased him all the way to the checkout. Derek decided to grab the leather jacket on the way, flinging it on top of the pile of clothes they had accumulated. Stiles pressed himself against the older man’s body, his hand wandering up and down the man’s arm, squeezing teasingly at his bicep whilst his other hand rested against Derek’s side, slowly dropping towards his belt. More than once during paying for the clothes, the older man had to grab the teen’s hand moving it back up his body and away from the waist of his jeans. Paying with his card, Derek grabbed at the bags, before grabbing hold of Stiles wondering hand as they left the shop. “You are such a tease,” the older man growled, making the teen smirk at the teacher’s lustful eyes.

 

Walking back to where they parked Stiles jeep, the teen threw the keys at the older man who caught them despite not expecting the sudden projectile. Unlocking the rusty door, Derek threw the bags with the ones from earlier before climbing into the front seat; he wasn’t looking forward to driving the death-trap, as he nicknamed it, back to the Stilinski house. Waiting for Stiles to belt himself into the passenger seat, the older man kicked the car into first gear, thanking the gods that he had driven the jeep a few times before.  As soon as they were driving out of the car-park, Stiles hand reached across the car, resting teasingly high on the older man’s thigh. Cautiously squeezing at the muscle to gage Derek’s reaction, the teen was reassured with the soft moan that fell from the older man’s lips. Stiles continued with his teasing, his fingers running up and down the older man’s inner thigh, chuckling every time he noticed Derek tighten his grip on the steering wheel.

Looking out of the windscreen, the teen noticed that they were getting closer to Beacon Hills; deciding that if he was going to do it, it was now or never Stiles unclipped his seat belt, before leaning across so that his face was in Derek’s lap. Popping the buttons on the older man’s jeans, the teen cooed in pleasure as he noticed that the older man had gone commando today. Stiles took no time in engulfing Derek’s cock, taking it into his mouth immediately, making the older man swerve the car at the sudden jolt of pleasure that ran through his body.  Getting the car back into lane, Derek nearly squeezed his eyes shut in ecstasy as he felt Stiles take him to the back of his throat; fighting not to lose complete control of his senses, the older man roughly pulled the car over onto the side of the road.

Slapping the hazard lights on, Derek rested his hands on the back of the teens head as he looked down to see Stiles lips stretched around the base of his cock, before they moved up to suck teasingly at the head, tonging the slit.  Running his hand through the teen’s short hair, Derek was thankful that the Stiles hadn’t bothered getting it cut recently, letting the strands grow out so that they were nearly long enough to grab; the older man’s fingers ran through his hair attempting to find purchase on the short strands to little success. The pent up arousal that had been simmering in his body for the majority of the day was quickly pushing his orgasm closer; opening his mouth to warn the teen, Derek moaned the words away as Stiles moved the older hands to the side of his head wordlessly telling the teacher to take control. Derek began to thrust frantically into the teen’s willing mouth, encouraged by the soft moans that Stiles released, teetering on the edge the older man thrust to the back of the teen’s mouth moaning loudly as he came down the younger man’s throat.

 

Relaxing his grip, Derek let his hands guide the teen’s head up to his own, pressing lazy, content kisses against Stiles lips as they both gasped for breath. “Derek, you made me come in my pants,” the teen chuckled against the older man’s lips, giddy in his post-orgasm haze. Laughing along with the teen, Derek went to press another kiss against the younger man’s lips when he jumped in shock as a hard knock at the driver’s window brought them back to reality. Hastily putting his cock back into his trousers, the older man scrambled to lower the window.

The blood drained from Derek’s face as he lowered the steamed up window to see the angry face of the Sheriff staring at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know it sounds like there shopping in a leatherwear shop, there really not I swear. 
> 
> How awks! Not a sight you want to see straight after a BJ, the boyfriends dad. MWHAHAHA
> 
> Sorry for the long wait for this update, but I've been knackered. Blame the weather, work and my drunk father. To make up for it you got plot and porn. You lucky bastards...


	33. Arrest

Staring into the older Stilinski’s angry face, it took the teacher a few moments to figure out what was happening. Derek was about to open his mouth to begin to explain what it must look like to the Sheriff, but Stiles beat him to it; the teen’s voice filled the car, “Dad! What are you doing here?” The two men in the jeep watched as the Sheriff visibly attempted to control his temper, before starting with a forced calm, “I’m here because of an illegally parked vehicle. What are you doing here Stiles?”

“Having oral sex.”

Derek felt his face blush at the teen’s blunt response, hitting his head back against the headrest of his seat; the teacher could sense the reels of rage falling off of the sheriff. He couldn’t believe how frank the teen was about what they had been doing; the thought of the sheriff finally having to face the fact that his son was in a sexual relationship sent both relief and dread through Derek’s mind. He had no idea how long the sheriff had stood outside the car window, seeing things that both the teacher and the teen had not wanted him to witness. He also knew that after Stiles so freely admitted to his father what they were doing, that Steve would not willingly allow his son to stay the night at Derek’s when the teacher finally moved out.

 

The sheriff’s attention moved away from his son, his glare setting on the Derek.  The teacher swore that if looks could kill, he’d be dead as the older Stilinski’s angry stare penetrated through him. “Driving License.” The sheriff demanded, eyeing the man almost daring Derek to refuse. With the single demand, the teacher knew that he was screwed; handing over his driving license would allow the older man to see his age; however if he refused it would see him in the back of the police cruiser for obstructing the course of justice. Letting out a sigh, Derek knew that regardless he was probably going to end up in the back of the police car, and at worst he would end up in jail. Controlling the panic that was coursing through his veins, the teacher turned to look at Stiles. Derek could see the fear in his eyes; the teen knew what was going to happen, probably having reached the same conclusion as the teacher. The fear in the teens eyes turned to shock as Stiles watched his teacher mouth ‘I’m sorry’ before reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

Withdrawing the plastic card from its leather compartment, Derek knew that he couldn’t turn back now; if he gave his ID over it would just confirm the Sheriff’s speculation that Derek was older than Stiles and combined with the teen’s earlier comment would probably have him arrested for statutory rape. Drawing in a shaky breath, Derek handed the plastic car over to the sheriff, clutching at Stiles hand as soon as he did. The teen and the teacher watched as the older Stilinski visibly paled, before beginning to shake with rage.

“Mr Hale, if you would please step out of the vehicle.”

Derek nodded to the sheriff’s order, quickly squeezing Stiles fingers before jumping out of the jeep ignoring the teen’s protests. “Dad! Come on, you can’t do this! He’s lived with us for weeks! You can’t just freak cause you found out he’s twenty-three. Not cool.” Standing closer to the older man now, Derek could see the vein bulging in Steve’s forehead as his anger raced through him. The teacher could see the man’s control begin to slip as the sheriff replied to his son, “Stiles drive home. I will see you there. Mr Hale if you would follow me, I have some questions for you.” Derek allowed himself to be led towards the police cruiser by the older man, trying to ignore the slight break in his heart as he listened to the teen thundering after them.

 

Although he expected it, dread filled the teacher as the Sheriff opened the back door, pushing him in behind the cage screen. Derek let out a shaky breath as the door was slammed closed behind him, leaving him to watch as the sheriff turned towards Stiles, clearly snapping at the teen. The teacher continued to watch as Stiles shouted back, his words muffled from where he sat, before stamping his feet and stomping back towards the jeep; Derek would have laughed at the sight of the teen stomping his feet, if it hadn’t been done in this situation. As the teacher watched Stiles climb into the driver’s seat of the jeep, slamming the door before racing off back towards Beacon Hills, the sheriff climbed into the front seat of the police cruiser. An awkward and uncomfortable silence filled the vehicle, the sheriff half turned in his seat to glare at the man in the back, shaking his head every few seconds. “Steve-” Derek began.

“You do know that whatever you’re doing with my son is classed as statutory rape right? He’s sixteen. You do know the age of consent in California is eighteen?” The sheriff’s voice filled the car, as the older Stilinski fumed at the man sat disgraced in the back-seat.

“Yes sir.”

“You do know that this could be classed as child abuse right due to the age gap.”

“Yes sir.”

“You do also know that you could be sent to jail for this?”

“Yes…” Derek mumbled his voice barely audible to the sheriff.  The teacher sat looking at the ground, trying to stop himself from crying at the thought of being sent to jail, not because of the jail-part, but instead the thought of being unable to see the teen that had robbed his heart. The sheriff sat calculating the older man’s reaction, raising an eyebrow at the soft sob that escaped from Derek’s lips. With none of the earlier anger in his voice, the sheriff asked calmly, “You really care about him don’t you?”

“Yes sir.”

 

“God. Trust Stiles! That kid can never do anything by halves. I don’t know what I expected, but I should have probably expected something like this. Fuck when we get back to the house, I’m eating the entire tub of ice-cream that Stiles has hidden in the freezer. I fucking need it after this.” Steve’s booming laugh filled the car that moments ago had been filled with his rage. Derek looked up in shock at the sudden laughter, the few stray tears that he had forced not to fall hung wet on his eyelashes as he stared at the older Stilinski.

“When we…house? You’re not going to arrest me for this?” Derek asked, trying to ignore the hope that grew in his chest in case the hope was dashed.

The sheriff’s laugh filled the car again, as he remarked through his chuckles, “Do you honestly think I’d ever hear the end of it if I did that? I should, if it was anyone else’s kid, you’d already be down at the station being charged. I love my son, and as much as I would love to charge you for this, but like I said; I’d never hear the end of it.” Derek sighed in relief, his head falling back against the seat-rest. “Don’t get me wrong though Derek. You hurt him and I will have no regrets in arresting you and charging you with everything. Consider it a warning... and no more secrets, please.”

Derek nodded at the Sheriff’s final comment, “Of course, I won’t hurt him I swear.” The sheriff nodded, turning to start the engine before Derek’s voice piped up again, “Steve if everything is okay between us, I would appreciate you letting me sit in the front instead of behind this.” The teacher gently hit the metal railings that separated them to support his comment, sighing in relief again as the older Stilinski nodded, moving out of the driver seat to let Derek out of the back allowing him to slide into the passenger seat before they drove towards where Stiles waited at the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm seriously blaming the bloody heat, I can't get motivated to write in this bloody temperature. 
> 
> However I don't just blame the heat for my distraction, I also blame a new interest in drawing style that I've started. I haven't drawn so much in ages and I know that's an awful thing to admit especially cause I'm an art student. But oh well. 
> 
> I also blame my absense on Cory Monteith's death, and my morbid fascination over the cause of it. I am now aware of the cause, Heroine, A Cocktail of drugs and Alcohol. Rest in Peace, but to use my mothers words What a waste of a life. Sorry if the last comment offends anyone.


	34. Refrigerator Light

Stiles sat putting with his arms crossed in the kitchen at the house. He tried to ignore the smashed remains of one of the glasses that sat on the table next to him; when he walked into the room he had thrown the nearest object at the wall in a fit of rage, only realizing when he heard the smash that he had thrown something breakable. Groaning as he picked up the smashed remnants of the glass, the teen nearly threw the broken pieces back at the wall when he accidently sliced the palm of his hand open. Grabbing the first aid kit to search for a plaster big enough to cover the cut, the teen moaned when he realized that he hadn’t restocked anything after the incident with Derek turning up at his door covered in injuries. Tying the tea-towel in a makeshift bandage around his hand, Stiles bitched to the quiet room and the empty house, mumbling empty threats under his breath about what he would do if his dad arrested Derek.

 

The broken glass and the discarded first aid kit on the table were quickly joined by a mountain of batteries, as the teen was sure that the ones in the clock had stopped working, as the time seemed to go slower; when he changed the batteries, Stiles sighed as he was sure that the new ones weren’t working either as they didn’t seem to make the time go faster again. After working through a pack of twenty-four batteries, the teen gave up throwing the clock on the table alongside all of the batteries. Tapping his fingers impatiently on the table top, Stiles sat with no means of finding out how long he had been waiting for his father and Derek too turn up.

Reaching into his pocket for his phone, the teen slammed his fists on the table when he realized that he had left his phone with all of his and Derek’s purchases in the jeep; he refused to go back in the vehicle, the drive back to the house had tested all of his patience and his driving skills. He was sure every other car had been on the road with the single desire to piss Stiles off; he had three arseholes pull out on him at a junction, one cat that decided to run across the road when he was doing 60MPH, no less than seven kids running about on the pavement so close to the road that the teen was sure they were going to run out in front of him, and a few that actually did. He had been fuming when he had driven off after his dad had practically arrested Derek, but by the time he had finally gotten home he was seething, wanting to grab his father’s gun and shoot every driver that he came across.

 

Slapping his palm down on the table, stopping the consistent tapping that his fingers had been doing, Stiles pushed himself out of the chair, moving to distract himself by seeing what food was left in the fridge; maybe making a sandwich would momentarily make him forget about the anxiety that was throbbing through his body. Yanking the door open to the fridge, the teen glared at a random orange that fell out and dropped onto the floor. Ignoring the piece of fruit on the floor, Stiles turned his glare to the practically empty contents of the fridge; continuing his mumbled rant, the teen muttered under his breath, “Why does no one bother telling anyone when the fridge is empty. Oh we’ve run out of food, oh well someone else can deal with it. Great, thanks for that, now there’s no food for anyone.”

 

So focused on his hushed rant, Stiles didn’t hear the soft sound of the front door opening, or the even softer footsteps that walked into the dark kitchen. The teen had been so focused on waiting for his dad and Derek to turn up that he hadn’t switched any lights on as the winter day ended, with the early night turning the inside of the house black. The kitchen was lit up from only the refrigerator light, a soft glow bringing the dark room into focus. Stiles didn’t notice the shadow creeping up behind where the teen stood at the fridge, only realizing the extra presence in the room when two arms wrapped themselves around the younger man’s chest. Jumping at the touch, Stiles spun around in the familiar arms, all of his anger disappearing as he squealed at the sight of Derek’s face. Throwing his arms around the older man’s neck, Stiles felt the teachers shaky breath against his ear as the arms around him tightened, pulling them flush against each-other.

Derek moved his arms lower around the teen’s back, pulling the younger man off his feet. Spinning on the spot with Stiles in his arms, the older man buried his face into the section where the teen’s neck met his shoulder; squeezing his eyes shut, Derek’s hold on the younger man tightened as he tried to reassure himself that the teen was there and that he wasn’t leaving him either. The older man didn’t bother biting back the sob in his throat as he felt Stiles soft tears soaking in the fabric on his shoulder. There mutual hold on each other tightened with every new tear that dropped onto each-others shirts, only the refrigerator light baring witness to their display of emotion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and Sweet, but I honestly felt like the chapter needed to end there. I will pump another chapter out today though, to make up for my lack of an update over the past few days. I apologize but I worked all weekend.
> 
> Inspired by All Too Well by Taylor Swift, 'We're dancing around the kitchen in the refrigerator light'. I love the lyrics to that song, you can just work from them so well.
> 
> The description of Stiles driving home, is actually a light version of my driving. I am a horrible angry driver, but I blame it on the fact people are arseholes and parents should fucking teach their kids that a road isn't meant to be messed around on or near.


	35. School Admin

The couple stayed wrapped in each other’s arms until the Sheriff appeared in the kitchen doorway, commenting with a chuckle, “You gonna take anything out of the fridge or are you just gonna leave the door open?” Derek didn’t jump away like he normally did when Steve interrupted moments between himself and Stiles, instead pressing a final kiss to the top of the younger male’s head, before lowering the teen to the floor. Holding onto Stiles hand, the pair spent the rest of the night watching the TV eating take away pizza with the older Stilinski; Stiles only complained marginally about his father eating unhealthily before he attacked the side order of curly fries that his father had ordered as well.

 

With the thanksgiving break cutting the school week in half, Derek had encouraged his classes to spend their lessons with him to finish off as much of their work as they could before the break citing, ‘Thanksgiving is for family not for homework.’ The students seemed to be happy enough to do as he said which he knew was probably because the other teachers were not being as lenient with the workloads. Derek freely admitted that he was spending his less structure lessons surfing the internet, already finding himself looking for ideas on what to get Stiles for Christmas. He also found himself dreading the thanksgiving break; he had been given the keys to his new house, but he had pushed back the moving time so that he and Stiles had more than just evenings and a weekend to fix the house up. He loved the teen’s enthusiasm at being allowed to paint the rooms, something the Sheriff had warned Derek against; the older Stilinski had joked that Stiles would probably end up accidently painting everything but the wall. He was going to miss the feeling off waking up every day having the younger male wrapped in his arms, but he hoped that the Sheriff would still allow his son to stay over despite finding out Derek’s age.

 

It was the first lesson on Tuesday morning when it happened. Derek had decided not to do an art history lecture like he normally did in the shorter session with Stiles class, instead allowing the students to continue with their sketchbook project; he had refused to look at any of the students work, saying that he didn’t want to pay less attention to the pages he had seen already when it came to marking. The hour lesson was halfway through when a sharp knock on the classroom door echoed throughout the quiet room, pencils stopped scratching at paper as the students turned in curiosity to see who was at the door. No one usually knocked on the door; Derek had said in the first few weeks that as long as you turned up with a valid reason for being late, the students could just walk in with an apology. “Come in.” Derek’s voice sounded throughout the room, loud enough to be audible through the wooden door. Refusing to move from where he sat cross-legged on his desk, Derek only looked up towards the door. As the intruder walked into the room, two hearts dropped to the floor in fear.

Peter Hale stood staring menacingly at the students in the room, his grin widening to form an evil appearance that sent chills through Derek’s skin. “I hope it’s okay, me dropping in on your class like this Mr Hale,” the scarred man cackled, his grin twisting the burns on his face as he turned to glare at the frozen teacher. Derek’s mouth gaped momentarily, barely acknowledging the pen that slipped out of his fingers as he continued to stare in disbelief at his uncle. Staring at the mangled skin of his uncle’s burnt face, the younger Hale finally managed to find his voice announcing to the still silent room, “Class Dismissed.”

 

“Sir its only half-way through the lesson.”

“Mr Hale, what are we supposed to do for half an hour?”

“D- Mr Hale…”

 

“Class Dismissed,” Derek spoke again, a harder edge to his voice as he refused to take his eyes of his uncle, refusing to back down from the unspoken staring match. He watched out of the corner of his eye as the students gathered their belongings, slowly creeping around the burned man, afraid to get too close, before walking out of the door. The younger Hale nearly broke his stare to turn to the remaining student, but stopped himself just in time, simply stating, “You too Stiles. If you still need help with that thing, you can come and see me about it at lunchtime or after school.”

 

The teen glared at Derek, before nodding, walking out of the room, trying to avoid the older Hale as much as possible; a difficult notion as the man stood only a few steps away from the door.  Derek was forced to watch, unable to intervene as his burned uncle looked down at the teen as he tried to pass by, grabbing hold of his upper arm, holding the teen still as he stared at Stiles face. Peter held the teen there for a moment, before releasing his grip as if moments ago his hand wasn’t squeezing painfully at the teen’s arm. Derek nodded at the teen as Stiles looked back from behind the older Hales form, before the teen ran into the hall. Peter stared at the door as he watched the teen run out into the hallway, before turning to smile maliciously at his nephew, “Now, now. Didn’t he look familiar? Honestly Derek, did your parents not teach you better? You know it is frowned upon, fucking one of your students-”

Derek growled in warning, momentarily halting his uncle’s speech. The older Hale’s spiteful smile twisted further as it widened, as he continued as if uninterrupted, “Even if the student in question is the Sheriff’s son.”

The art teachers frown dropped into an expression of shock, “How did you know?”

 

Peters laugh filled the room sending the chills back up Derek’s spine. The younger hale had to stop himself from flinching as his uncle moved closer, standing directly in front of the younger male. The scarred man dropped his voice to a whisper as he hissed in his nephews face, “I know everything.” Stepping out of Derek’s personal space, the burned man fake cheery voice hid the threatening tone underneath as he smirked, “Don’t worry darling nephew. We will be seeing a lot more of each other now. I’m the new admin here at Beacon Hills High School.”

Derek hated the way his voice always disappeared whenever he was in his uncles presence, ignoring the slight stutter as he forced himself to ask, “What happened to the last one?” He had seen the admin the other day; she was talking about visiting her son for the holiday, she was looking forward to helping out her son and her son’s partner who had just had a baby. Derek watched as the evil smirk on Peter’s face spread to his uncle’s eyes, making them shine with a joy that made the younger hale nauseous.

 

“God knows.”

 

 Peter’s smile cracked into a soft cackle of laughter as the burnt man turned away from his nephew, walking out of the classroom, smirking at the teen that stood waiting just out of sight of the doorway. Stopping next to the teen, the older Hale leaned over to whisper in the teen’s ear; close enough for his breath to brush against the teen’s skin. Stiles skin crawled as he felt Peter’s breath against his ear and his neck. The Scarred man leaned closer still so that his lips teased the skin, as he whispered into the teen’s ear, “I’ll be seeing a lot more of you as well.” Stiles flinched as one of Derek’s uncles hands pressed at his abdomen, before slipping down to grab at the teen through his jeans. Stepping away with a chuckle, Peter walked away not sparing a glance back in that direction. Stiles felt his legs shake momentarily, before they gave out from underneath him. Crashing down on the floor, the teen pulled his knees against his chest before dropping his head into his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY BABY IS 50,000 words long. I can't even!
> 
> Wow okay, I have my plot back on track, I'm sorry, I admit my heads been wanting to be all sweet and Sterek cuddles but even I didn't expect this chapter to end like this. It's going to get worse as well I'm afraid. Sorry.
> 
> Two comments now:
> 
> OMG, Visionary!! I fucking sobbed when I read about that episode. Derek needs hugs and he needs Stiles hugs.
> 
> Secondly not Teen Wolf related- The New Trailer for Hunger Games: Catching Fire, fuck me that looks good.


	36. Photograph

Derek couldn’t be more grateful for the half week; his uncle had continued to breathe down both his neck for the remainder of Tuesday, and all of Wednesday. Straight after Peter left the younger Hale’s art room on the Tuesday morning, Stiles had practically crawled back inside sobbing. It had taken nearly an hour for the teen’s tears to settle so that Stiles could explain what happened; it thankfully took less time for the younger man to calm Derek down, stopping the teacher from going out and punching something or a specific someone. The older man could understand why Stiles stopped him from going out and punching his uncle for what he did to the teen; he knew that in a battle of brute strength his uncle would always win. Despite that knowledge, it still didn’t stop Derek from wanting to hit Peter. As soon as Stiles was sure that the older man wouldn’t do something that would get him hurt, the teen wiped away his tears before listening to Derek as the teacher begged, “Please go home Stiles. I’ll know you’re safe there.”

“And say what to my dad?”

Derek rolled his eyes, smiling softly at the teen despite the situation, “Tell him you threw up or something Red.”

Stiles voice filled the room as he whined, “Threw up! In the morning! Dude if I told my dad that I puked, he’s gonna go psycho parent and get me a pregnancy test. Derek I don’t wanna pee on a stick.”

The pout that filled the teens face made Derek want to burst into laughter; quickly stopping the chuckle that was about to escape, the older man pressed a soft kiss to the teen’s forehead.   Fighting not to laugh, Derek insisted, “Your dad is not going to make you pee on a pregnancy stick Stiles. Go home, have a longer thanksgiving break than the rest of the school. Just be safe.” The teen nodded in response, prompting the older man to duck down to press a quick kiss against the younger man’s lips, before gently nudging him towards the door.

 

With the teen no longer in close proximity to Peter, Derek’s fear for Stiles safety slowly dwindled to the back of his mind. His uncle however decided to toy with his nephew; walking into him constantly in the corridor, sitting next to him in the staffroom. The entire time his evil smirk stayed firmly in place, as if warning the younger Hale that something was about to happen. It was Wednesday when it happened; Stiles had remained home again leaving Derek to spend another school day frowning as he missed the teen. The teacher walked into his classroom, his frown deepening when he spotted a large brown envelope sat dead centre on his desk. Edging towards the envelope, Derek dropped his bag on the desk beside it, before cautiously picking it up. Ripping the seal, he let the contents fall out onto his desk, his heart dropping faster than the photographs that fell onto the wooden surface in front of him.

Out of the envelope fell about fifty photographs, all of Stiles. Derek could tell that some of the photos were as recent as the day before, whilst some stretched back weeks to just after Peter first saw the teen. Some of the photos showed Stiles on his own; often in his jeep. Whilst others showed him with Erica, some showed them walking towards the local cinema, whilst another was clearly taken through the cafeteria window. There were also photographs of Stiles with Derek; one photo showed them ordering take-out after school to take back home.  Shifting through the pile of photographs, Derek felt his face pale further; picking up the picture, he looked at the photo showing Sheriff Stilinski pushing him in the back of the police cruiser with Stiles screaming at his dad. Derek hadn’t realized that they had been followed for so long; he used to be able to sense his uncle’s presence but now he didn’t even notice. The teacher wanted to slap himself for not realizing that Peter wouldn’t have let him leave so easily, he knew why his uncle wanted to keep him around for all those years, and Derek had been so caught up in the happiness he had with Stiles to realize that his uncle had been playing a game since he ran out of that house.

 

Feeling slightly ill, Derek began shoving the photographs back in the envelope when he spotted a note stapled onto a single photo. Dropping the half-filled envelope, he picked up the staple note/photo; ripping the note off, Derek’s already shocked eyes widened further as he stared at the picture. The photo was worse than all of the other images combined due to the pure invasion of the teen’s privacy. Peter must have taken the photograph from the tree outside Stiles bedroom window, as it showed the teen oblivious to the voyeur, standing naked in the centre of the room smiling teasingly into the corner where his bed was.

Derek knew the teen had been smiling teasingly as he had been lying in his boxers on the bed, waiting for Stiles to come out of the shower so that they could cuddle before going to sleep. The teen had walked out of the bathroom, making extra sure to close the bedroom door behind him before standing in the middle of the room and dropping the towel from where it rested on his skinny hips. The sight of the naked teen standing so openly in front of him, had made Derek forget about the thoughts of cuddles and sleep, instead it made his mind jump straight into sex-mode. Derek continued staring in shock at the photograph as he remembered jumping off the teens bed, pulling Stiles flush against his body before attacking him with a long and dirty kiss; looking back Derek couldn’t help his mind from stating that it was almost meant to have been a private kiss.

A mixed pit of hatred, embarrassment and anger filled his stomach as he remembered what followed after the kiss; Derek had Stile hadn’t bothered moving backwards towards the bed, instead they had fallen onto the teens bedroom floor, where the teacher had moved Stiles onto his hands and knees before kneeling behind him. Derek dropped the photograph next to the envelope, collapsing onto the ground as he threw up his breakfast into the trash-can next to his desk. He felt embarrassment for the teen, and anger at Peter; Derek couldn’t explain the mixture of emotion inside him knowing that his uncle had watched through Stiles bedroom window as the teacher had made the teen cum from just using his tongue in the younger man’s arse.

 

Spitting the taste of bile out of his mouth, Derek pushed himself off of the floor, growling as he noticed a shadow filling the classroom doorway. “He’s very photogenic isn’t he… Cute too.” Peter chimed as he waltzed into the room, instantly moving over to the desk to look through the photographs that the younger male hadn’t put back in the envelope yet.

“Why are you doing this? Leave Stiles out of this game you’re playing!” Derek snapped, his hand tightening into a fist, crumpling the unread note that his uncle had stapled onto the most intimidating photograph of the teen.

“Oh no, I think I’ll keep him in; makes it more interesting you see. He can be the prize for the winner, besides I’m doing this quite simple because I can,” Peter smirked as he fell backwards into the rarely used chair behind the desk. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, the scarred man continued, “I’m doing this because you made me Derek. And Mr Stilinski is involved because you made him.” Pushing himself out of the chair, Peter clasped his nephew on the shoulder, his fingers digging painfully into the skin momentarily before letting go as he exited the room.  

 

Letting out a growl at his uncles back, Derek loosened the grip on the note; un-scrunching it the younger hale felt his rage boil further as he read;

'I bet I’d make him cum quicker.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry. I am so fucking sorry, my mind is evil. 
> 
> There will be a fluffy chapter next to make up for the two chapters of shitty douche-canoe Peter I've put you guys through. And then it will probably be back to arsehole Peter again :)


	37. Painting

Derek forced himself to remain calm for the rest of the day, collapsing into the front seat of his Camaro as soon as he could after the bell rang signalling the end of the day and the start of the thanksgiving break. Driving back to the Stilinski house, the teacher felt an itch at the back of his neck, as if certain that he was being followed by his uncle. The younger Hale had shoved all of Peter’s photographs back into the envelope, before pushing the envelope to the bottom of his work bag. He wished he could destroy every single photo, but Derek knew that if something was to happen in the future, the photographs could be used in evidence against his uncle; not that the younger Hale wanted anyone to see them, he didn’t want Stiles privacy invaded further. He had also quickly decided that he didn’t want the teen to know about this incident, wanting to protect the younger male from his uncle’s perversion as much as he possibly could. Parking in his usual space on the curb outside the Stilinski house, Derek quickly pulled the envelope out of his bag, shoving it out of sight in the glove compartment.

 

Walking into the house the paranoia filling Derek’s mind made him pause momentarily locking the front door behind him. The older man stood staring at the locked handle pushing away the thoughts of the day, wanting to pretend to the teen that nothing had happened. Sighing shakily, Derek dropped his work bag on the floor, before moving towards the living room where he knew Stiles would be lying on the couch eating junk food that the teen had hidden from the Sheriff. Standing in the doorway, the older man couldn’t help but chuckle at how right he was; Stiles was sprawled on the sofa surrounded by both open and unopened sweet wrappers, whilst a pile of blankets and pillows sat in the corner of the room. “Did you have fun in your pillow fort then?” Derek asked, quickly grabbing an unopened sweet of the floor, ignoring the teen as the younger man slapped him on the arm to try and stop the thieving.

“No. I didn’t have my usual 6ft of muscly sex god to cuddle me and blow me. I had to use my right hand earlier, not cool; you need to make it up to me after making me masturbate alone. Not impressed.” Stiles pouted, crossing his arms across his chest as he mock-glared up at his teacher. Rolling his eyes at the teen, Derek reached forwards pulling the teens arms from across his chest; interlocking their fingers, the older man smirked as he pulled Stiles up from the couch, ignoring the younger man’s moans and complaints at being manhandled out of his comfy seat.

“Go upstairs and get dressed in clothes you don’t mind getting wrecked… oh and Stiles do me a favour, from now on please keep the blinds on your window down.”

Confusion interlaced the teen’s voice, as he halted halfway towards the stairs, “Why do you want me to keep my blinds closed?”  Stiles turned to stare at the older man, trying to find the answer to Derek’s weird request in his facial expression; growling to himself at the blank mask the older man had put up, the teen simply nodded. Continuing his walk up the stairs, a stream of thoughts and speculations filled his head at what could have happened to make Derek want to keep the blinds closed when Stiles usually left them wide open.

 

After Stiles had gotten dressed, and was no longer just waltzing around in one of Derek’s old shirts and a pair of boxers, the older man scribbled a note for the sheriff in case they didn’t get home before he did, and drove them towards the new house. The teacher had planned to have the majority of the rooms painted before they called it a day later on; he still ignored Steve’s warning that the younger Stilinski would make the process harder instead of easier. Walking through the front door, Derek ignored the questioning look that filled the teens face as he flicked the lock. The older man was thankful that Stiles didn’t question his sudden paranoia; he knew that if the teen started questioning he wouldn’t be able to lie to him.

Entwining their fingers, Derek reassuringly squeezed the teen’s hand trying to physically reassure Stiles that nothing was wrong; the older man assumed it worked because the teen squeezed back before standing on tip-toes to press a quick kiss against Derek’s cheek. Stiles dropped the teachers hand, running towards the stack of paint Derek had left waiting in the living room; he had organized the paint cans by room, so Stiles couldn’t go mad and paint a rainbow on his bathroom wall. Not that Derek thought the teen would, he just did it to reassure himself after the sheriffs comments that the worst case scenario couldn’t happen.  Following after the hyperactive teen, Derek couldn’t help but smirk as he saw Stiles had already worked the lid off of one tin of paint, and had begun by painting a smiley face on the wall. “If I can still see that smiley face when we’re done, I’m going to rip your throat out… with my teeth.”

“Kinky… No but come on sourwolf, you can’t be grumpy when even your house smiles.” Stiles stuck his tongue out to end his response, before rolling paint over the smiley face. Derek winced slightly as he saw the darker patch of the two layers already shining through.

“You’re going to be so immature and do that in every room aren’t you?” The older man asked as he picked up a paintbrush and began carefully going around the borders and the edges of the plug sockets; he knew Stiles wouldn’t have the patience to be steady handed with that job, so Derek thought it best to let the teen attack the wide spaces. “Am I going to end up with a dick painted over the bed?”

“It was actually going to be a unicorn but now you mention it, I am so gonna paint a dick in the bedroom… Maybe you could strip and I could paint you like one of them French boys on the wall.” Groaning in response, Derek continued to paint the border, covertly adjusting himself through his jeans when he was sure that Stiles was not paying attention.

 

By the time they had finished the downstairs rooms and most of the upstairs, Derek had stripped out of his shirt; something Stiles took great pleasure in. With only Derek’s bedroom let to do, the teen was also getting more and more playful with his actions, painting a strip of dark blue down the centre of the older man’s back when Derek went towards the paint bucket. Receiving only a condoning frown, Stiles pouted as the older man returned to painting. Deciding to be even more mischievous, the teen slowly diverted himself of his paint covered T-shirt, before teasing his jeans down his hips. Derek’s head whipped around to stare at the teen when he heard the sound of Stile’s belt buckle hitting the wooden floor. The older man watched as Stiles hands skimmed across the waistline of his boxers, before moving down and massaging his half-hard member through the thin material; the thin cotton clung to the teen’s skin, emphasizing the younger man’s cock. Derek licked his lips, before stalking towards the teen; completely forgetting about the half painted room. Pulling the teen flush against him the older man let his hands rest on Stiles hips, rubbing the skin above the waistline, teasingly dipping into the fabric only momentarily before pulling out again.

“Deerrreeeekk…” Stiles whined pawing at the older man’s chest trying to find purchase, giving up the teen worked his hands into his teacher hair, clutching at the strands.  Nuzzling the teen’s cheek, Derek chuckled into the skin, dropping his hands to the back of the teen’s knees pulling Stiles up so that he sat around the older man’s hips. The teen locked his legs around the older man’s waist, moaning at the friction as he rutted up against Derek’s denim covered cock. Completely forgetting about the wet paint on the wall, the older man spun them around, pressing the teen up against the wall for extra support.  Placing one hand on Stiles hip, and the other on the teens knee to keep his legs in placed wrapped around his hips, Derek began rutting into the teen. Smashing their lips together, the older man inhaled the moans that escaped from the teens lips.

Stiles cupped Derek’s face in his hands, keeping the older man against his lips; only allowing a small amount of breathing space before clashing back together. Stiles battled for a lost fight for dominance in the kiss just for the added buzz of lust that filled them both, heading south to their already rock-hard cocks. The teen knew that Derek was always going to win the fight for dominance, but it didn’t stop him from trying just for the added edge. A particular hard thrust made the teen see white, biting down on the older man’s bottom lip as he as his orgasm hit him like a freight-train, strings of cum soaking the front of his boxers. Growling at the bite, Derek dropped his head to Stiles neck, biting down on the flesh as he followed after the teen, cumming in his jeans.

 

Derek held the teen against the wall until he was sure Stiles would be able to support his weight again without falling flat on his face; the older man had seen on countless occasions how much more dopey the teen got after an orgasm, including one very awkward incident when Stiles fell over after Derek blew him in the shower, it would have been fine if the teen hadn’t fallen into the tap on the way down.  One trip to A+E later, where the teen had three stitches in his forehead, and had announced to anyone who asked how he fell that he fell because ‘that arsehole gave me a blowjob’, Derek knew not to trust Stiles on his feet. Carefully setting Stiles on the floor, whilst keeping hold of him, Derek noticed the back-shaped mark in the blue paint. Spinning the teen around, the older man laughed at the blue paint that covered the younger man’s shoulders, lower back and boxers. “Come on, let’s go have a bath and clean the paint off us. I guess this is revenge for you putting paint on me.”

“Screw you sourwolf, screw you.”

Pressing a soft kiss on the top of the teen’s head, Derek picked Stiles up bridal style. Walking to the bathroom, the older man joked lightly, “Alright then, maybe later though. Once we’re clean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The joke at the end with Derek saying Maybe Later to screw you. That is a joke, him and Stiles haven't gone full on fucking yet. It's also a joke my friend does when I say 'fuck you', he just responds with 'Okay'.
> 
> A bit of light-hearted porn to make up for the two chapters of shitty Peter. Enjoy.


	38. Feels Like Home

Derek and Stiles cleaned off their mutual messes quickly, leaving them to laze around in the warm water. The older man held the teen against him, the younger man’s back pressed against Derek’s more muscular chest; every so often, Derek would teasingly skim a wash cloth over Stiles sensitive nipples, earning heated moans that filled the tiled room. Slowly the teacher’s hands dropped away from the teen’s chest, dipping lower so that the bottom of the wash cloth was rubbing the tip of the teen’s pleasure trail. As the cloth again dropped lower, the edge ghosting over the teen’s half-hard cock, Stiles had enough of the harmless teasing; twisting awkwardly in the porcelain tub, the younger man wrapped his legs around the older man’s waist straddling Derek’s hips.  Stiles momentarily locked the older man in a passionate kiss, before Derek pulled back, smirking as he broke the kiss. “Oh to have the stamina of a teenager,” he chuckled against the teens pouting lips, looking down Derek felt his smile widen as he watched the teen rubbing his erection against the older man’s abdomen.

 

“Aww don’t worry Sourwolf, erectile dysfunction happens to a lot of old aged men,” the teen quipped, wrapping his hands around the back of the older man’s neck as Stiles pulled him back into their familiar kiss.

Breaking the kiss once more, Derek caught the teen’s bottom lip playfully in his teeth sucking softly on the flesh. Letting the abused lip fall from his teeth, the older man forced his face into a fake a pout as he joked, “I’m not that old you arse.”

“Eeyour. Get it you called me an arse. Ass, donkey, eeyour. Anyways dear, of course you’re not old; you’re just seven years older. So you kind of are old but still. Now can you shut up and get me off!”

 

Grinning mischievously at the teen’s pout, Derek gently moved Stiles off of where he sat on his hips; standing up, the older man stepped out of the bath-tub. Looking around the room, Derek mentally slapped himself for not having anything in the house yet, there were no towels in the room and the older man knew that there weren’t any anywhere else in the house either; the washcloth had only been there to wipe paint off the skirting boards. Looking over his shoulder at the still pouting teen, Derek smirked as he simply stated, “Get yourself off,” before walking out of the bathroom; butt-naked.

***

Derek finished painting the rooms in the nude, including correcting the large blue back imprint in the master bedroom whilst Stiles masturbated in the bath. The teen kept shouting empty threats through the open door, before continuing jerking himself off. Derek hated to admit it but he did get the work done faster without the teen unknowingly teasing him; the older man blamed the complete uselessness of the teen’s belt. The leather did nothing to stop Stiles jeans falling to his low hips; Derek swore that he saw the pale skin of the teen’s thighs occasionally. Slicking the last bit of paint onto the wall, Derek threw the brush back into the empty tin; smirking at his handiwork, he left the empty paint tin on the floor as he moved back towards the bathroom where he had left his clothes and the teen.

Quickly redressing, Derek frowned at the empty bathroom, the water long since drained from the tub. His frown deepened as worry began to spread through the older man, as he began rushing through the rooms on the top floor looking for the missing teen. Derek sprinted down the stairs when he couldn’t find Stiles in any of the rooms on the upper floor. Thoughts ran through his mind of Stiles waiting downstairs or in the car, whilst worse thought crept into the dark places of Derek’s mind as he began to imagine his uncle sneaking in and kidnapping the teen whilst the teacher was upstairs painting the walls. Racing into the living room, the older man’s heart slowed as he saw the teen lying fast asleep on one of Derek’s painting sheets; Stiles had obviously finished off in the bathroom before deciding to wait downstairs. Judging from the second sheet which the teen had scrunched up to form a make-shift pillow, Stiles had gotten bored of waiting for the older man to finish.

 

With his worry having disappeared at the sight of the teen on the living room floor, Derek smiled weakly at Stiles sleeping form as he crouched on the floor and manoeuvred the dead-weight of the fast asleep teen into his arms. Momentarily winded from the strain off picking up the teen, Derek forced his leg muscles out of the crouch, letting out a long breath as he stood straight with the teen curled into his chest. Derek didn’t know if he felt grateful or irritated that he left his car keys in the pocket of his jeans as he carefully let go of the teen’s legs supporting Stiles with the one arm that remained wrapped around the teens skinny waist, so that he could fumble in his pocket.  With one hand wrapped around his keychain, Derek carefully hitched the teen off the ground so that Stiles weight was resting against the older man’s hip.  

“Jeez Stiles, how the fuck are you this small and weight this much.” Derek murmured half-heartedly as he lifted the teen out of the house, locking the door behind him before swinging the teen back into both of his arms. Smirking at the teen’s still sleeping face, Derek thanked the gods for the unlock button on his keys, as he heard the familiar click sound from the Camaro.

Derek didn’t know how he managed to manoeuvre the teen to open the door, nor how he managed to place Stiles in a seat without accidently smashing his head against the car frame. The older man didn’t know how he managed to get the teen out of the car and up the stairs in the Stilinski house without causing one of them an injury; he did have the Sheriff to thank in aid of that one, the older Stilinski had opened the front door for them as soon as he saw Derek’s car pull up on the drive, as well as locking the black muscle car whilst Derek pulled Stiles up against his chest once more. The teacher marvelled at how deep a sleeper the teen was, Stiles didn’t slip into consciousness at all despite being carried around and being driven about; Derek hated to admit it but he was an arsehole driver as soon as the roads were empty, pushing the Camaro to speeds that went well over the speed limit.

 

Dropping the teen onto the bed, the teacher carefully began to undress the younger male, smirking as Stiles whined in his sleep at the cold air when Derek pulled the jeans off of the teen’s hips.  Pressing a soft kiss against the teen’s hipbones, the older man shuffled out the teen out of his shirts leaving Stiles in only his underwear. Stripping out of his clothes and into the pair of sleep pants that he wore just in case the Sheriff walked in one morning; Derek usually just stripped out of his clothes, and go to bed in his boxers or naked depending on whether he went commando that day, but since living at the Stilinski house he didn’t want Steve to walk into Stiles room one morning and see his sons boyfriend naked in bed next to the teenage boy. Collapsing onto the bed next to the teen, Derek pulled the duvet around them before snuggling up against the younger man’s back.

 

Thanksgiving was a simple affair at the Stilinski house; Stiles woke up earlier than he usually did, even on school days. When Derek woke up to find the cold spot against his chest where the teen was usually sleeping, he frowned at the loss as he trudged down the stairs; his frown deepened when he saw the closed kitchen door. Carefully edging towards the door, he reached for the handle before jumping nearly a foot in the air as the Sheriff spoke directly behind him, “Unless you want something thrown at your head, I really wouldn’t do that.”

“My head?”

“Stiles gets protective over the kitchen at thanksgiving and Christmas. Seriously he won’t let anyone in, even if they want to get a drink.” Steve explained, placing a hand on Derek’s shoulder as he steered the man into sitting room. Falling into the sofa’s, Derek just rolled his eyes as he imagined the havoc the teen was probably getting up to in the kitchen, before smiling softly to himself as he watched the TV with the sheriff. It felt nice for the teacher to have a normal holiday like this, after his sister ran away to do god knows what, holidays were never celebrated. It felt surreal for Derek to be sat feeling like part of a family at Thanksgiving, something he hadn’t felt for years.  Relaxing back into the sofa cushions, Derek smiled at how much the teen had changed his life, as he felt more at home than he had in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long wait between updates, But i needed to literally pull this chapter out of my arse before i could ocntinue with the big juicy/evil plot points. 
> 
> By the way, how cute is the idea of Derek carrying a sleeping Stiles.


	39. Here Comes The Game

Dinner was as casual as any other meal in the Stilinski house, Derek had been pleased to find out; and despite the slight doubt in the back of his mind about the teen cooking, and the food looked and tasted fantastic. After filling up on a combination of turkey, potatoes and vegetables, Derek couldn’t help but grin manically when Stiles left the table, returning with both a chocolate cake and a pumpkin pie. The teen even allowed his father to sneak an extra slice of both deserts, without the regular rant about the Sheriffs health. When the trip had eaten their share of the food, leaving minimal leftovers, Stiles went to clear the table only to be told to sit down by his father. Looking at the Steve in confusion, the sheriff turned away from his son, shifting his attention onto Derek. “Now son; I know you’ve got your house sorted, you just need to move in,” The sheriff started, with Derek nodding in response. The teacher didn’t know when it started happening but the sheriff began softening towards him, often referring to him as son; Derek grinned for hours when the older Stilinski first did it, and even now it still made a small grin spring onto his face.

 

The sheriff took Derek’s nod as an acknowledgment as the older man continued, “What I’m trying to say is, I know you and Stiles have gotten used to being with each other 24/7, except for when he’s at school and such.” Stiles couldn’t help but exchange a guilty look with his teacher, behind the sheriff’s back. Derek returned the look; the guilt was eating at the back of both of their minds. Derek didn’t like the fact that he was concealing the truth to the man that had already put up with so much, and had brushed it away asking for ‘no more secrets’; whereas Stiles just hated lying to his father, even if he knew that it was momentarily for the best. After the older Stilinski’s accepting reaction to Derek’s age, neither of them  were taking bets on a second accepting reaction if Steve found out that as well as Derek being seven years old than the teen, he was also in a position of authority.

The sheriff groaned to himself as he tried to get the words out causing Stiles to smirk at his father; the teen knew he got his rants, babbling and inability to stop talking from the older Stilinski and it was one of the few of his annoying personality traits that he didn’t blame on his ADHD. “What I’m trying to say is, as long as Stiles spends half the week at home, he can stay at yours whenever he wants.” Whooping in joy, Stiles flung his arms around his father’s neck squeezing the man into a hug as he leant across the table. Smiling at the teen’s enthusiasm, Derek thanked the older Stilinski. Derek’s smile just grew wider as Steve stopped the aimless ramble of how much he loved his dad, to announce, “Don’t forget to use protection if you’re going to do anything, not that you will be doing anything obviously. But please if you do, don’t tell me; I don’t want to have to arrest you for statutory rape Derek.”

***

Derek was amazed and slightly annoyed at how quickly the rest of the thanksgiving break whizzed by, quickly finding himself back in his classroom at Beacon Hills High School. He and Stiles spent the days moving stuff into the older man’s new home, arranging the rooms and putting together furniture. Derek had to ban Stiles from being in the same room when he tried to put together the flat-pack items; the teen hovered over the older man’s shoulder to the point where Derek got so distracted he’d accidently made the bed frame into a triangle.

The older man sent the teen away to put the sheets on the bedding with a kiss and a playful love-tap to the butt, Derek scowled at the triangle bedframe as he struggled to undo the bolt that he had only moments ago done up as tight as he could. It didn’t take him long to undo the bolt, slip the missing piece into place and form the base of the bedframe; smirking to himself, Derek watched as the teen stood in the hallway fighting with the corners of the sheet and the duvet half trapped amidst the mess that Stiles had created of the simple task. Deciding it was probably for the best to leave the teen to struggle, the older man walked towards the mattress that the delivery men had left propped up against the bedroom wall; not that Derek was complaining he was personally thrilled that he wasn’t the one who had to fight to get the thing up the stairs. Quietly huffing as he shuffled the heavy item across the room, trying to make it seem like it was the easiest thing in the world to flip it onto the frame when he felt the teen’s eyes burning into his bare back.

“Stop asserting your masculinity by throwing mattress’s about and come give me a hand with this god dam duvet!”

 

Grinning at Stiles, the older man bound towards the teen, pulling him up into his arms; the duvet quickly being forgotten on the floor behind them as Derek carried the younger man over to the bed. Dropping the teen onto the mattress, before flopping down beside him, Derek turned onto his side as he smiled at Stiles’ flushed face.  The teen copied the older man’s movement, rolling onto his side and returning the adoring smile that greeted him. “Is this Derek’s slacking off time now?” Stiles chuckled as Derek reached out, entwining their hands in the small distance between their bodies.  Beaming down at the joined hands, Derek let go momentarily to pull something out of the back pocket of his jeans; pressing the item into the teen’s hand he whispered softly, “Nope it’s giving presents to Stiles time.”

Opening his hand to see the item, Stiles pushed himself into a seated position as he stared at the key in the palm of his hand. Moving to sit up next to the teen, Derek nudged the younger man’s shoulder with his nose before resting his chin on the bone, “It’s so you can come over whenever you want too, whether I’m in or not.” Stiles turned wrapping his arms around the older man’s neck, the momentum pushing Derek back down on the bed. Chuckling underneath the weight of the teen who was peppering kisses all over his face, the older man wrapped one arm around Stiles waist, bringing the other to hold the teen’s face still long enough for Derek to press their lips together.

 

Breaking apart after a while for air, Stiles voice ghosted across the older man’s bottom lip, “You’re probably gonna end up regretting giving me this.”

“I won’t.”

“You will; I’m so coming over to watch shit on your big ass TV sourwolf.”

***

Stiles enthusiasm had further peaked when he discovered the few geeky things that Derek had ordered to dot around the house, mainly for the teen’s entertainment. The older man chuckled to himself as he set up the presentation ready for his first class, thinking back to when the teen had discovered the set of Loki night-pants Derek had brought for the younger man and had placed under one of the pillows on the bed.

 

“Did my darling nephew have fun playing house with the little boy-toy?” Peter’s voice echoed in from the doorway, making Derek instantly turn to scowl in that direction. Cackling at the glare, his uncle continued as he flounced into the room sprawling onto the younger Hale’s desk chair, “Now now, don’t be like that. I can see why he calls you sourwolf; he should probably change that to Scowlwolf… though I must admit I’m not entirely sure where the wolf bit has come from; are you an animal in the sack or something?”

Growling at the scarred man, Derek snatched at his sketchbook as Peter momentarily turned his attention towards the leather book. The older Hale raised an eyebrow at the action, leaning back in the chair as he raised his hands to rest under his chin; to some it may have looked like the scarred man had done it to show that he wasn’t going to touch anything, but Derek knew he did it to feign innocence before he targeted his prey. The younger male knew his uncles game, it was a complicated maze of predator versus prey with twists and turns that lulled the victim into a false sense of calm. Derek refused to be caught in the intricate web of deceit and tricks that his uncle created in the game, remaining glaring at the scarred man as Peter’s grin widened as noise began to echo in from the open door.

 

Shouting, yelling, cheering, laughing, and chanting sounded from the corridor, Derek tilted his head in confusion at the open door to his classroom as he heard Jackson’s voice shouting angrily over the combination of other voices.  Turning back towards Peter, the younger Hale’s eyes widened in realization as he saw sadistic joy light up his uncle’s face. “What have you done,” Derek snapped undecided over whether to throw a punch at the older Hale or sort out the havoc in the hall just outside his room.

“I’ve started the game Derek. Don’t forget to teach little Genim Stilinski the rules. I’d hate for Stiles to get hurt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I GOT MY PLOT BACK BABY!!! 
> 
> Be warned shit is going to start getting evil now. MWHAHAHA.


	40. Connections

Derek recoiled in anger at his uncle using the teens real name; Stiles had nearly punched the younger Hale once when he jokingly called him it when they were play fighting on the couch. As the name had slipped from Derek’s mouth, the teen’s smile shifted before he blindly swung his fist towards the teacher’s face. Catching the fist in his hand, the younger Hale found out that day the reason why Stiles used his nickname instead of his real name; the teen hated his name. He hated the way it was written, the way it was said; but it was the name his mother gave him, and after his mum died, Stiles said he hated hearing people say it wrong or write it wrong, stating it hurt his mother’s memory. The teen said it got to the point where he hated hearing it said even if it was spoken properly; it was the that he started going by the nickname that Scott had made up for him when they first became friends as children. Derek had wrapped his arms around the teen when Stiles finished explaining, muttering into skin behind the teen’s ear, “If you don’t want me to use it, I won’t.”

 

Now looking at where the scarred man was sat grinning from ear to ear, Derek felt angry for the teen; if people that Stiles trusted so much weren’t allowed to use the beautiful name that his mother gave him, why should a slimy bastard like that be allowed to utter the name with his vile tongue. Opening his mouth about to state that thought, Derek turned towards the door once more as the chanting of ‘Fight!Fight!Fight!’ reached his ears.

“Maybe you should go check on that dearest nephew.” Peter smirked, pushing himself out of the desk chair, strutting out of the room before walking in the opposite direction to the noise. Growling at his uncle, knowing that whatever was going on in the corridor was probably in some way linked to the devious man; Derek followed the scarred man out of his classroom door, heading in the direction of the noise.

 

The steady walk broke into a run as soon as Derek spotted the circle of students crowding around a small group of six. Breaking through the barrier of students to get to the centre, the teacher frowned at the sight of the word ‘GAY’ sprawled across a nearby locker in vibrant pink spray-paint; the aerosol fumes lingering in the air. His frown deepened as his attention turned to the group of students in the middle of the circle; a group of three jocks stood on one side, their lettermen jackets pointing out their clique, whilst on the other side stood Stiles and Danny both clutching at one of Jackson’s arms, trying to stop the boy from lunging at the jocks.

His voice booming to the circle of students, “Shouldn’t you all be getting to your lessons?” The crowd of teenagers dropped into silence as they all turned towards the teacher standing in the open space at the centre of the circle; none of them had noticed the art teacher working his way through the mass of bodies. Not wanting to get in trouble via association, the crowd quickly dispersed from the hallways, slowly emptying leaving only Derek stood with the six involved. “Now then Danny, Stiles please can you take Jackson here to my room. I would like to find out what has just happened,” the older man spoke calmly to the two teens that were still restraining Jackson; judging from the wild look in the teen’s eyes, they were probably the only things stopping the rich teen from murdering the three jocks. Stiles and Danny gently pulled the struggling teen towards the classroom door, having to fight more against Jacksons strength when the ring-leader of the jocks waved before dropping his wrist limp, “See you later queer.”

 

“Enough! Names all three of you.” Derek commanded his voice no longer calm like. Pulling out a pen from his back pocket, the teacher jotted down the jock’s names in the back of his sketchbook which he was still holding from during his confrontation with his uncle. Scribbling the last of their names, the older man nodded towards the graffiti across the locker, “You know that is classed as destruction of property, and we could make you pay for that.”

“We didn’t do it though!”

“Yeh, we just found it like that!”

“It was there when everyone came in today sir.”

Looking at the three jocks with a raised eyebrow, Derek made a mental note to look over the security cameras which were dotted along the halls in the school. Sending the jocks off, stating that he would be sorting out this incident and they will all be in detention for the rest of the week, Derek walked towards his classroom, sighing as he saw his first class for the day gathering by the closed door. “Sorry guys, I need to sort something out. If you would all please go to the library and do some research on the Pre-Raphaelites. I want you to write 500 words to be handed in next lesson, and no copy and paste-ing.” The freshman nodded, walking towards the library, a few mumbling at the word count, whilst others grinning widely at being allowed to chat for the next hour about their half-terms. Waiting until the last student walked off, Derek pushed open the classroom door, frowning at the sounds of Jackson’s shouts which had been previously muted through the wooden door.

 

“It was him! He was the only fucking person who knew.” Jackson yelled as soon as the teacher shut the door, running past both Stiles and Danny’s arms as they tried to grab him. Derek recoiled as Jackson through his fist into the side of the teachers face, his knuckles directly hitting the cheekbone.

“Jackson!”

“Derek!”

Stiles and Danny’s combined shouts joined the room, as they rushed towards the pair, situating themselves between them. The hyperactive teen forgot all about discrepancy as he cupper Derek’s reddened cheek in his hand, remembering their company just as he was about to lean forwards and press a soft kiss against the teacher’s lips. Fear showed in Derek’s eyes, as the older man locked eyes with Jackson, the rich teen having seen the exchange between himself and Stiles.

 

Indicating Stiles to move backwards with a small nod of his head, Derek moved a step closer to Jackson, ignoring the warning that Danny made at the movement. “Firstly, that is another topic,” the teacher indicated towards where Stiles had moved; the teen now sitting on Derek’s desk, hugging his knees as he watched the situation from afar. “Secondly, I would never do that to anyone, student or adult; acquaintance, friend or enemy,” the older man continued, nodding encouragingly at the cautious nod that Jackson gave whilst Danny dropped his grip on the teen’s arms. Letting out a soft sigh of relief, Derek gently rubbed at the ache in his cheek as he indicated, “I won’t tell anyone about this, I don’t want you getting in unnecessary shit for it.”

“If it wasn’t you who was it!” Jackson spoke, his voice hoarse as he tried to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. He hadn’t wanted to be so cruelly outed, he hadn’t even been sure if he wanted to be out, using Lydia as a fake girlfriend. Danny had been caring and considerate even with the Lydia-guise, not pushing or forcing the rich teen to admit the truth. But now the words were painted in neon pink across his locker, with half the school already knowing via seeing or from gossip and word of mouth.

 

“That is what we will find out, I promise. Now Stiles if you would be so kind to fetch Miss Lydia Martin. I’m sure she will be a big help in finding out the truth and the culprit.” Derek stated, smiling momentarily as Stiles flailed slightly when he jumped off the desk, before his fake smile slipped into place; at the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but think that somehow Peter was connected to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Jackson! I am sorry but I am going to be getting a lot more evil, this isn't even the worst I have planned. Mwhahaha.


	41. The True Target

The three males waited in the awkward silence of the classroom as they waited for Stiles to return with the red-headed female. Derek thanked the gods that Lydia hadn’t been present when Jackson first accused him of being the one to spray-paint the pink word on the teen’s locker. As famed as Jackson’s anger issues were, they were nothing compared to the red fury that occurred if you got on the wrong side of Lydia. Standing against his desk watching the pair entwine fingers, Derek couldn’t help but feel like a voyeur as he watched the gay teen try to reassure Jackson about the school knowing. The older man couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief when the hyperactive teen came bundling back into the room, Lydia following behind him her heels clipping at the lino floor. Stiles moved to stand next to Derek as he ranted about how difficult it was to convince one of the History teachers that he wasn’t trying to help Lydia skive. “I seriously had to say Mr Hale wanted to see her like five times.”

Smiling down at the teen, Derek moved off of where he sat at the desk as he asked, “Did you tell Lydia why you were dragging her out of class?” He watched Stiles face visibly fall as the teen’s mind clicked into place, “Ah shit.”

“No Mr Hale he didn’t explain to me why I was being dragged out of my lesson. So explain.” Lydia commented pointedly, frowning as her eyes flicked to where Danny was stood with a comforting arm around Jackson’s waist. “So much for being secretive you two,” she stated lightly, to those who didn’t know her it would have sounded like she was being harsh or mean, but to those who knew Lydia’s sense of humour, she was playfully joking with two of her best friends. At her harmless words Jackson bit back a sob, his hand clutching at the side of Danny’s shirt, the fabric bunching between his fingers.  Despite how insensitive she made herself out to be, Lydia cared deeply for her friends; at the sob Jackson released, she rushed over to her friend, unintentionally pulling him away from the gay teen’s side as she embraced him. Jackson curled himself around his friend, his head resting against her chest as he stopped holding back the tears and cried into her shirt.

 

“That is what Stiles was meant to explain Miss Martin. There was an incident before classes started, which has unfortunately outed Mr Whitmore to the school.” Derek explained squeezing Stiles hand when he felt the teen entwine their fingers together as they watched the way Jackson broke down.

The pair watched as Danny joined in the embrace, his arms joining with Lydia’s as they encircled Jackson. The gay teen waited until his boyfriends tears slowed, before turning towards where the art teacher stood with his hand entwined in Stiles’; Danny raised an eyebrow at the hyperactive teen before nodding pointedly at the hand which the teacher was holding. Stiles nodded at the gay teen’s expression, he knew that it meant he was going to be explaining his relationship later on; he didn’t mind though, although he and Danny weren’t as close as he or Scott had been or as close as he and Erica were, the gay teen was still a good friend. Hell Danny had been the one who helped Stiles hack a backdoor entrance into the police records when they were fourteen. That brought a thought to the forefront of the hyperactive teens mind; accidently dropping Derek’s hand as he flailed trying to get the Jackson and Lydia’s attention.

 

“Dude's, I’ve got it! I know how we can figure out! There’s like security cameras all over the school, and there’s one like directly facing Jackson’s locker. All we need to do is get onto the video files for the cameras and voila you’ll find out who Mr Spray-paint is.”

“That would work, but how are we meant to get access to the video files Stiles,” Derek questioned the teen, his hand slipping back into Stiles; the older man knew that Stiles considered the students in the room his friends, and considering they had already let their guard down in front of them, Derek didn’t see much point pretending that there wasn’t something going on between them when the teen’s already knew there was. Stiles smiled up at the teacher with a fake innocence, before turning to direct an evil smirk towards Danny.

“Stiles!” Danny chastised the teen with a glare.

“Oh come on, you do it enough already.”

“That’s besides the point.”

“You have a police record for it.” Stiles stated, sticking his tongue out at the gay teen.

“I was eleven!”

“That just proves you were good then.”

“I got caught.”

“So what, that just means you forgot to hide your tracks.”

“Fine! If I get caught for this, you’re so fucking making sure I don’t get in shit.” Danny pouted, pressing a kiss to Jackson’s forehead before moving towards Derek’s desk. “Is it okay if I use your laptop Mr Hale? It’ll save me the trouble of working through the School’s Network system on mine.” The older man nodded at the gay teen, moving out of the way as Danny walked towards where the teacher’s laptop sat open on the desk. Not bothering to pull the projector cord out, Danny closed the presentation that was filling the screen and the wall behind him, biting back a chuckle as he saw the teacher’s desktop background standing out brightly on the white-wash walls.

 

Derek had replaced the picture of himself and his sister a few weeks previously, usually being careful to put the presentation up before any class walked in because of the picture he had replaced it with. The image that covered the wall behind the desk had been a photo Stiles had taken when Derek was refusing to get out of bed one morning; the teen had crawled back into his bed beside the older man phone in hand, curling up against Derek’s side, he had quickly taken a photo. The picture that came out had left the teen howling, and the older man scowling when Stiles shoved the phone in his face so he could see. Derek had begged Stiles to delete the image, something the teen did after demanding they take another photo. The picture they ended up with was of Derek smiling up into the camera on Stiles phone, as the teen pressed a closed-eyed kiss against the older man’s cheek.

“What is it with all your friends seeing me shirtless,” Derek pouted at the teen just as Lydia’s voice filled the room alongside his.

“Jesus Stiles, how the hell did you manage to get him? I want one.”

It was Jackson’s chuckle that broke the last remaining awkwardness in the room, his chuckle expanding into a fit of laughter as Lydia began aimlessly poking his side, as she playfully demanded that he must find her one for Christmas. Derek and Stiles joined in with the laughter, the contagious giggles pushing the awful situation to the back of their minds.  Danny’s voice broke the lightening atmosphere, as he announced to the room, “I’ve got it.”

 

The group turned their attention to the projected image on the wall as Danny clicked play on the black and white video. They watched in silence as the gay teen fast-forwarded the clip to the right moment, returning it to normal speed as the culprit walked towards the locker and began spray-painting the word with his back to the camera. Derek swore that the bright pink colour of the word stood out vibrantly even in greyscale, as they waited for the figure to finish the ‘G’. The breath of the five people in the room hitched as the figure flipped the can in his hand before turning to walk away from the graffiti. They only got a brief flash of the face before Danny began swearing loudly at Derek’s laptop as the video was switched off, sending them back to the older man’s desktop background. “I’ve been kicked off, someone realized I was snooping, they’ve kicked me out the files. Shit Jackson, I’m so sorry baby; I can’t get back on them now. Someone’s deleted the video file.”

As Jackson reassured Danny that it was fine, and he tried all he could, Derek stood staring at the wall where the video had been only moments ago. He knew who the figure had been as soon as he saw that brief flash of a face, and he knew that Jackson getting outed was only a small part of the game. Turning towards Stiles with a soft smile to hide the train of thoughts in his head, Derek realised that the game wasn’t aimed at him; the true targer was Stiles. Peter was playing the game to hurt Stiles, and he had spied on the teen enough to know that the best way to hurt the teen was to first hurt his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the long wait for the update. I spend a few days at my friends house whilst her parents were away, and alcohol was involved so I had no intention of doing much when I finally got home.
> 
> I also blame the amount of work I've been doing on my Etsy shop and the fact I have 6 days worth of con's in less than a month and no outfit completed yet, aka I'm shitting my pants cause all my costumes are really quite detailed and shit.
> 
> On a plus note, I will be starting a new story soon, completely unrelated to this one but still Sterek. It won't update as regularly as this one, but I am going to try and make the chapters a lot longer than these ones. It will also probably take me a little bit longer to write the chapters cause it will be based off an experience in my life, and it is going to fucking suck remembering it. However I feel like it's time the story should be told, as even my closest friends do not know the full details of it.


	42. Pink

After making sure that Jackson was up to facing the rest of the student population, Derek sent the four teens to their lessons; not before pressing a soft kiss to the top of Stiles head when the hyperactive teen wrapped his arms around the teacher’s waist in a simple goodbye embrace. The older man knew that they were going to have to start being more careful; half a dozen people were aware of their relationship and if anymore found out, it was no longer going to be a secret. Derek knew that Stiles trusted the teens that had found out, but the teacher couldn’t fight the soft nagging at the back of his mind about how easy it was for secrets to be blurted out during heated discussions; with teenagers and with adults.  Now the art teacher merely stood watching the small group of teens chuckling and chatting as they left the room, wordlessly supporting each-other through their decisions, mistakes and general life’s; he hoped that this group of Stiles friends would support him more than Scott had.

* * *

A few days past since Jackson was outed at the school, the gossip slowly simmering down. Stiles had smiles and supported the teen; Jackson wasn’t a major douche all the time, though he still had his moments. The hyperactive teen couldn’t help but feel proud of his friend every time Jackson ignored the cat-calls and attempting insults spat at him; instead of fighting back in the usual Jackson-behaviour, the teen would wind his hand into Danny’s if they weren’t already entwined and ignore the names and slurs. Stiles had pushed most of the thoughts about the culprit behind the pink spray-paint that was still sprawled across Jackson’s locker, until he spotted something out of the corner of his eye one morning.

 

Grabbing books out of his locker, fighting through the chaos that resided in the small metal compartment, Stiles had turned around to see Allison standing at her own locker across the hall. Normally the teen wouldn’t pay much attention to his ex-best-friends girlfriend, but that day Stiles couldn’t help but notice the shocked and visibly upset look that covered the girls face as she stared down at a piece of paper in her hand. Sighing to himself, not really knowing why he wanted to see if she was okay, the hyperactive teen slammed his locker closed in irritation at himself before walking over to the girl. Gently touching Allison on her shoulder to grab her attention, Stiles flailed slightly as the girl whipped around at a speed that made his heart beat faster in a mix of shock and fright. Smiling awkwardly at the girl, taking note of her watery eyes, and the kicked puppy look which she had clearly picked up from Scott; Stiles questioned softly, “Are you alright?”

Returning the smile, the look clearly forced, Allison squeezed the piece of paper and the vibrant pink envelope it came in tightly before replying in a soft whimper, “Not really.”

“I know that me and Scott aren’t really friends any more… but do you wanna talk about it?” Stiles asked, staring curiously down at the paper in the girl’s hand, unable to see the contents that had obviously bothered her. As if she noticed where he was looking, Allison stuffed the paper and the envelope into his hands with a shuddery breath as she fought back tears, “This. This is what’s wrong.”

 

Staring curiously down at the paper that was now in his hands, Stiles turned it over his eyes widening as he saw what was on it. There were no words on the white sheet, but there was a picture. Printed in full colour was a photo of Scott kissing a mildly pretty girl with bright pink hair. Frowning at the picture momentarily before looking up into Allison’s eyes, seeing the amount of hurt and pain in the brown pupils as she sobbed. “Why would he do this?” She sobbed, bringing her hand up to her mouth to try to quieten her cries. Instinctively wrapping his arm around her shoulders, bring her forwards so that she could cry against his shoulder, Stiles attempted to comfort the girl. He knew that despite all the shit that had occurred between him and Scott, and no matter how many times he had placed some of the blame on the girl, she didn’t deserve to be hurt like this. As she cried into the collar of his red hoodie, Stiles opened the piece of paper behind her head so he could examine the image once again. Frowning in confusion at the image, trying to figure out the sense of déjà vu he got from the blurred picture, Stiles suddenly figured it out.

“Allison! Allison! It’s not what it looks like. This picture is like two years old, seriously. He kissed this girl at some party we went too, she was so drunk that she puked on him just after this was taken.”

Pulling away from where she had been crying into his shoulder, Allison stared at him in confusion, “What!”

“He’s not cheating on you.”

 

Stiles couldn’t help but smile at the look of pure relief and happiness that filled the brunettes face as his words sunk in. Pushing the picture back into its vibrant pink envelope so that she wouldn’t have to look at it again, the hyperactive teen was nearly pushed off his feet when Allison flung herself forwards, hugging Stiles tightly in her joy.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how relieved I am. God I was this close to finding Scott and slapping him,” Allison smiled before frowning softly, “He misses you, you know. He won’t admit it but he does.”

Frowning at the girls words, Stiles shook his head signalling her to stop where their chat was going. “He made his bed, and he can stay in there until he realizes what he’s done, and then he can say sat beside it until I decide whether he should be forgiven or not.” Smiling at her to make up for his snappy tone in his last comment, he reached out to squeeze her shoulder reassuringly, before switching to a more pleasant topic, “You all sorted for Christmas yet?”

 

“Urgh. Don’t even get me started, I’m supposed to be going shopping with Lydia after school but I still don’t know what to get for Scott… Sorry,” Allison smiled apologetically at the mention of her boyfriend’s name, not knowing if it would upset or annoy the usually hyperactive teen that had just saved her from potentially fucking up her own relationship.

Smiling reassuringly in response, letting the girl know that he wasn’t going to bite her head off if she talked about Scott, he asked, “Well I know we haven’t been on the best terms this year, but I will happily provide my services if you need a hand finding something for Scott; I sincerely doubt his interest have changed much in the two months we’ve not spoken.”

Stiles was nearly forced off his feet again as the girl leaped at him again, wrapping her arms around his neck, as she rejoiced, “Thank you! Thank you so much.” Letting go of him, smirking as Stiles rubbed exaggeratedly at his shoulder. Sticking his tongue out in response, Stiles retorted, “Don’t mention it. I’m secretly just using this as an excuse to make you and Lydia help me find something for Erica.”

 

Smirking mischievously at him, Allison questioned, “Erica? She’s the blonde girl you eat with now right?” Stiles nodded in reply, allowing the girl to continue talking after he confirmed her question, “So is she you’re girlfriend or something?” She couldn’t quite bite back the giggle as she watched the male teen flail as he began profusely denying that idea.

“No god knows, not my girlfriend. Well she is a girl and she is my friend but not in the romantic or sexual sense and oh my god what do you get for someone you’re involved with.”

Giggling at the comical look of fear that filled Stiles face, Allison retorted, “I thought you said she wasn’t your girlfriend.” Sticking his tongue out at the girl who he was quickly beginning to like; he blamed the whole deal with trying to get Scott’s attention that made him slightly dislike her at the start.

“I’m not on about Erica, I’m on about De- My boyfriend,” blushing slightly at the words, and thanking the gods as the bell rang signally lessons, Stiles smiled awkwardly at Allison as she smiled encouragingly back at him.

“I’m really happy for you Stiles. I’ve gotta get to class, but I’m meeting Lydia here after last lesson so if you meet us then as well we can help you shop for your boyfriend and you can help me shop for mine... Could you do me a favour though; can you throw that in the trash for me?” Stiles nodded in response as Allison indicated to the paper and the vibrant pink envelope that he still had clutched in his hand.

 

Waiting until she walked away, the hyperactive teen couldn’t help but stare down at the picture in confusion. He remembered taking the picture of Scott kissing the random girl; he also remembered showing Scott the pictures on his compute the next day. His best friend had been so embarrassed when Stiles had shown him the photo, begging him not to upload it anywhere; both teenage boys had Scott’s mum as a friend on Facebook and the last thing either of them wanted was for her knowing that they had snuck out to a party or that Scott had been randomly making out with a random girl. Frowning at the photo, it struck the teen just how someone managed to get hold of the image; the only file was on Stiles computer. Drawing his attention to the bright pink envelope, the teen couldn’t help but wonder if the person who put this in Allison’s locker was the same person who spray-painted Jackson’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Woo, Pink Peter strikes again. I'm using that name, Pink Peter. I can just imagine him as a wolf with a bright pink bow now. Sorry early morning my brain gets scrambled.
> 
> But yes, to put it simply Peter is fucking with Stiles through his friends; and he's starting with his people who are more like acquaintance than friends first, such as Jackson and Allison.
> 
> So yes enjoy, and good luck on the date of the next update, so many costumes to finish....


	43. Shopping Trip

Stiles was waiting at Allison’s locker when the bell went signalling the end of lessons for the day, quickly tapping a text to Derek saying that he’ll come over to his house later. His phone buzzed with a reply just as Lydia and Allison came to stand next to him; smiling a quick greeting to the two girls, his attention dived back towards the text from the older man.

**Okay Red. Is it bad that I miss you? We haven’t seen each other much today XX – D**

**Aww dont wory I miss u too sourwolf. I’ll mkae it up to u, we can cuddle tonigt and watch ur crap tv ahows. We could wahtc the gay one! XXX – S**

**Merlin isn’t crap Stiles. That show is just pure homo-eroticism. :P XX- D**

**Yeh, like I said. Gay ;) XXX- S**

Grinning manically at his phone for a second before dropping it into his back pocket, the hyperactive teen couldn’t help but blush slightly at the two identical smirks that filled Lydia’s and Allison’s faces. “Was that your boyfriend you were texting,” Allison asked teasingly. Before Stiles could even bite back a response, Lydia had smiled evilly at the teenage boy before turning towards her best friend.

“Of course he was, can you not see the blush on the boy.”

Playfully smacking the top of the red-heads arm in retaliation, Stiles could feel his face redden as his phone buzzed on cue in his pocket. Pulling the device out of the back of his jeans to see the smiley face that Derek had sent in response, the hyperactive teen couldn’t help but smile widely as he put the phone away. Interlinking his arms with both Lydia’s and Allison’s, Stiles walked between the two girls as they all walked towards their cars; they had decided to regroup in the car park at the mall. Climbing into his beat up jeep as he watched the two girls elegantly slide into Allison’s car, Stiles couldn’t help but smile as he momentarily stared in envy at how nice and new the brunette girls car was; he shook his head quickly when he argued to himself that his jeep had more character and sass. Forcing his gearstick into reverse, ignoring the usual chugging and the random clicking noise that was coming from somewhere under his bonnet; despite several attempts to find out the whereabouts of the noise, Stiles had given up and just learnt to live with it by turning up the stereo when it worked.  As he drove out of the school car park and towards the mall, the male teen failed to notice the pink rose that was attached to his windscreen wipers; the wind and the speed quickly destroying the delicate flower.

 

Finally reaching the mall, having gotten caught at practically every traffic light on the way, Stiles parked next to where the two girls were waiting patiently. Slamming the door behind him as he jumped out of the jeep, sparing a quick glance at the parking lines before announcing to no one in particular, “Oh I don’t give a shit, it can stay like that.”

“Wow. Are you always that bad at parking Stiles?” Allison asked jokingly, wrapping an arm around the teens shoulders when she realized he wasn’t particulary in the mood for piss-taking.

“Only when I’ve been stuck behind arsehole drivers for the last twenty minutes,” the male teen pouted before bouncing on the balls of his feet, “Now come on! Christmas shopping time, you guys need to help me.” Both girls rolled their eyes affectionately, before walking towards the elevator that would lead them towards the shops.

 

Dropping down at a table outside a coffee shop in the centre of the mall, bags full of purchases filling the wooden table top. Stiles had helped Allison find something for Scott easily enough, having practically dragged her into a Game shop stating that this was her best bet at finding a gift. The male teen had been right, and he only needed to offer her his opinion as the girl had quickly found some games that Scott would defiantly like. Lydia had further helped Allison and Stiles by manhandling them into a variety of clothes shops, pointing out t-shirts that Scott would like to the brunette girl, whilst guiding the hyperactive teen towards the accessories section.

Stiles had quickly found a vampy necklace and earing set that he knew Erica would like, as well as a Batman mug set in the Gift section. He had already gotten the girl some chocolate that he swore she was addicted too, as well as the season one DVD for Buffy The Vampire Slayer; Erica had come round to his house one time when Derek was forcing him to watch it and she had gotten hooked. Stiles had now gotten most of his presents sorted, having only really needed to finish buying for Erica. Now all he needed was to figure out what to get Derek; the older man having had to rebuy all his old things only a month previously, Stiles was left without many ideas. As the trio sat at the table, the girls sipping on their fancy coffees whilst the hyperactive teen fiddled with his bottle of juice, Stiles voiced his need for help, “I don’t know what to get Der…him. He’s got practically everything he wants.”

“What about something he wouldn’t think to buy for himself?” Allison suggested; she was also stuck with ideas, as she knew nothing about Stiles boyfriend. She didn’t even know his name.

“Why don’t you get him stuff he needs then instead? New sketchbook, paintbrushes?” Lydia commented, as she pretended to be more interested in her coffee when the brunette girl stared in surprise at the red-head.

“You’ve met him?” Allison aimed towards her best friend, wordlessly saying that she would be begging for details and information as soon as she could. Smiling apologetically at Stiles as she turned her attention back towards him, the brunette asked, “So he’s artsy then?” Nodding awkwardly in response as he attempted to hide his blush, Stiles wanted to mentally slap himself for not thinking of art stuff first; while it was true that Derek had brought new art stuff when he brought stuff for the house, Stiles knew first hand just how quickly the older man went through paints and brushes. 

“Well that’s settled then, as soon as we finish our drink’s we’ll go to the art shop at the back of the mall.”

 

Gathering their bags up, Stiles practically had to stop himself from running ahead of the two girls in his excitement. He was glad that he hadn’t decided to buy a cola earlier on, because the sugar probably would have sent him running off; but instead the teen ignored the occasional jolt in his step as his body fought against his brain. The trio eventually reached the art shop, the dim lights, and the slightly dirty shop window signalling just how often people in the town went here. Stiles could see the smirk on Lydia’s face when the young shop assistants face lit up at the sight of visitors, as if on cue the red-head practically pranced over to the counter to harmlessly flirt with the worker. The hyperactive teen also spotted the eye-roll and affectionate smile Allison gave her best friend as the red head, pulled herself up to sit on the counter exposing more thigh; the shop assistant, having been no older than twenty, practically began drooling.

Stiles began exploring the displays, with Allison following after him; she was clearly leaving Lydia to her charms. Within no time, he had gathered a small collection of things that he knew Derek would like, or knew he was running low on. As the hyperactive teen grabbed a tube of Cerulean Blue oil paint, the girl questioned softly, “Why just that colour?”

“He’s running out,” Stiles answered simply as he walked towards a spray-paint display, momentarily reaching out towards a can of pink before pulling his arm back as the memory of the colour sprawled across Jackson’s locker. 

 

Shaking his head as he practically jumped away from the display, Allison frowned at the teen’s earlier response, “How do you know he’s running out of that specific colour?”

“I practically live at his house half the week, and the rest of the times he ends up coming over to mine.” Stiles explained, chuckling softly at when the teen had to spend his first night alone at his house after Derek moved out. Neither of them slept well, the older man had ended up driving over to the Stilinski house half-dressed at three in the morning. Derek had used the key that the sheriff had given him when he had been staying there, and had snuck up the stairs towards the teen’s bedroom; Stiles had nearly shit the bed when the mattress dipped. When he had realized it was the older man, the teen had been on the verge of punching him in the face until Derek explained he had a nightmare. Any anger Stiles felt had disappeared when Derek had clung to him, explaining that he dreamt Peter had hurt the teen; Stiles had spent about an hour whispering in the older man’s ear that he was there and he was fine. When the sheriff had found them asleep in bed together the next morning, he had laughed so much that he woke both of them up.

“And your dad doesn’t mind?”

“My dad loves him; the man thinks he’s got another son practically.”

 

“God I wish my parents would be like that with Scott, my mum just acts so judgemental towards him. Every time he has dinner, I think he’s gonna have a panic attack at the table.” Allison laughed softly, sweeping her hair behind her ears as she examined a small notebook.

Chuckling alongside her as he began to walk towards the counter; arms loaded with items, “Nah, Scott’s more likely to have an asthma attack. The panic attacks are my forte. ” Smiling at the brunette at the soft snort that she attempted to cover with her hand, Stiles once again found himself wishing that he had been able to get along this well with her from the start. Dropping the items onto the counter just as Lydia jumped off the counter-top with a wink at the sales assistant, Stiles couldn’t help but chuckle alongside Allison. During their shopping trip, the hyperactive teen had quickly realized that Lydia liked to flirt with sales assistants; mainly for her own entertainment.

Paying for his purchases, Stiles felt a wave of relief wash through him at finally having brought something for Derek for Christmas. Stepping out of the art shop, his arm once again crossed with Allison’s, as she stood in the middle of the group. Smiling at the two girls, Stiles spotted something out of the corner of his eye that made him whip his head around. Quickly detangling himself from the girl’s limbs, the hyperactive teen ran towards it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor Pink Peter moment. Sorry for the long wait between updates, but like less than two weeks before two con's and still sorting out costumes. 
> 
> Stiles momentary envy over Allison’s new car; lets face it 8/10 your first car is generally a piece of pure shit, well at least my car was. I hated that bastard, I was so fucking happy when I got rid of it at the beginning of this month. The thing was awful on hills, and I lived in Wales aka country of hills for most of the year. The stereo comment is also taking the piss out of my car, I broke my radio antenna when I was putting kayaks on the roof of my car, (a Nissan micra may I point out, and my   
> kayak is a big bastard), and I didn’t realize it unscrewed. I didn’t have a radio for nearly two years.
> 
> Also Stiles parking, saying "Oh I don't give a shit, it can stay like that." That is what i usually do every time i have to park. Generally I'm parked across two spaces just cause I am too lazy and stubborn to straighten up and fix it. I am awful at parking, I can't reverse into a space, so I always try to find a drive in, drive out spot.


	44. Promise

The few short weeks in between Thanksgiving and the beginning of the Christmas break passed by quickly; Stiles had returned from his shopping trip with Lydia and Allison with an evil grin on his face, followed the next day by two piles of presents that appeared in the living room. The sheriff took the badly wrapped collection of presents as a sign to get the usual Christmas decorations out of the hiding place in the attic much to Stiles delight. Derek couldn’t help but laugh at the childish joy on the hyperactive teens face as they put the plastic tree up despite the teens constant begging for a real tree.  “Come on Dad, it would look so much cooler than this tree.”

“Oh yeh it will be so much cooler when you have to go around with the vacuum everyday cause of the pine needles. Nope not happening kid; when you have your own house go ahead.” Steve responded dropping down onto the couch handing Derek a beer as they watched the teen flying around the tree with tinsel.

“Derek….” Stiles grinned mischievously at his teacher.

“No, you can’t start pestering him for one either.” The sheriff rolled his eyes at his son as Derek just laughed uncontrollably. The teacher couldn’t help but stick his tongue out when Stiles crossed his arm and pouted at the two men, before stalking over and dropping down into Derek’s lap. Thankfully moving his beer out of the way just in time to receive an armful of the teen, Derek couldn’t help but chuckle as the younger man continued to pout as he snuggled against the older man’s chest.

 

Wrapping the arm that wasn’t holding the bottle around Stiles waist, Derek couldn’t help but smile into the teens shoulder at how easy it was for them to act normally in front of the older Stilinski. The teacher did put the down to the Sheriff letting so many things drop; Derek’s age for example. The art teacher had once asked the older Stilinski, when Stiles was doing a last minute assignment for school upstairs; why he put up with their relationship, stating ‘Most parents would have had me arrested by now.’  Derek couldn’t quite hide the shock when Steve had wordlessly gone to the bottle of Jack Daniels that sat three quarters full on one of the bookshelves. Pouring a generous amount into two glasses, Steve had handed one to the Hale before taking a large swig from his own.

_“He looks so much like her when he’s with you; so happy.”_

Those few words had made Derek’s heart throb in a mixture of sadness and happiness. Instead of words of sympathy that he was sure the sheriff had heard thousands of times before, Derek clasped him on the shoulder, squeezing softly as he joined the older man in drinking to the memory of Stiles mother.

Pressing a soft kiss against Stiles shoulder, Derek slowly eased the teen out of his lap; an easy job as the teen quickly decided to stop pouting and continue with throwing Christmas decorations everywhere. The teacher had been putting off marking some of his classes work for a few weeks, one of the classes being Stiles’.  The project books were sitting sprawled around the living room in his own house, whilst a few were stuffed into the work bag that he had dropped at the side of the teen’s bed earlier on. It was already decided that the teen was spending the night over at Derek’s, due to them planning on spending a large quantity of the Christmas break at the Stilinski house. Knowing that he wouldn’t get much work done with the teen breathing suggestively down his neck at his house, Derek decided it was best to do some of the marking whilst Stiles was distracted by practically turning the Stilinski house into Santa’s Grotto.

 

Dropping down on to the teen’s half-made bed with his red marker and a small handful of sketchbooks, Derek couldn’t help but smile when he was Stiles familiar handwriting sprawled across the front cover of the top book. Slowly leafing through the pages, the older man couldn’t help but be shocked at the amount of the work the teen had done; having practically lived together for most of the time Stiles had on the project, Derek had never seen the teen working in the small book. But there it was; pages, full of research, sketches and scribbles. The drawings weren’t that bad either; Derek couldn’t help the sigh of relief when he saw the teen had left the love hearts to minimum.  

A soft frown filtered onto the teachers face when he turned one of the pages, revealing a small envelope with his name written painstakingly elegantly on the back. Pulling the staple that attached it to the page, Derek carefully undid the opening trying not to rip any of the paper. Whatever he was expecting to fall out, the small scrap of paper and object was at the bottom of the list. Holding the paper up, the older man just stared at it; the paper was blank apart from a single question mark that stood out vibrantly in the middle. But even with the lack of words written, Derek knew the question that the teen was asking as he fingered the object that Stiles had stapled next to the question mark.

 

“So…”The older man’s head whipped up at the soft sound of the teen’s voice. Having not heard Stiles come up stairs, Derek looked down once again at the piece of paper before looking the teen in the eye. Pulling the object off of the staple, he held it out towards the younger man.

“You know Condom’s don’t work if you put a hole in them; and you put two holes in it.”

Stiles chuckled softly as he edged away from where he was leaning against the door frame, moving towards where Derek sat cross-legged on the bed looking like a prime opportunity. “So what’s you answer sourwolf?” He whispered as he edged onto the sheets, slowly crawling towards the older man in an attempt to be sexy and seductive. The teen knew he was probably failing, but couldn’t help but grin at the shaky breath the older man let out; Stiles knew that Derek usually only did that when he was trying to control himself.

“Are you sure?” Derek asked, biting back a moan as Stiles leaned even closer, the teens hot breath licking at his ear.

“Yes.” The teen grinned widely, at the simple word and the determined look of trying to keep control that was showing on the older man’s face. Pushing himself forward, closing the small gap between them, Stiles joined their lips together in a needy kiss that made the space around them heat up. Grasping at the back of the teen’s neck, keeping him locked in place; Derek devoured Stiles mouth before pulling apart with a soft bite to the bottom lip.

 

“We can’t do this here. When we’re at mine later, I’m going to take my time with you, I’m going to make you scream my name.” Derek growled, pulling Stiles in for a kiss that was a promise for more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, lack of updates, but to make up for the lack you will be getting a sexxxy scene next chapter. I was going to hold off on the sex for a little while longer but I noticed that my word document is nearly reaching 100 pages; and I wanna celebrate that with Sterek sex.
> 
> Enjoy the next few chapters cause although they add to the plot and the story, there such filler things that are just adding to the Sterek feels, before I drop a shit tonne of shitty Peter on you.


	45. Hummingbird Heartbeat

Derek and Stiles hastily left the Stilinski house as soon as they were finished with the take out that Steve had ordered for them all; the teen couldn’t even bring himself to complain at the unhealthy food, to hyped up on what was going to happen when the couple left for Derek’s house later on. With a quick hug goodbye to his dad, Stiles grabbed at the overnight bag which contained his laptop and a few spare Adderall tablets. The teen had no need to bring the bag in reality, seeing as Derek had kept a set of drawers spare for the stuff that Stiles had slowly brought into the older man’s house, as well as the spare bottle of Adderall that sat beside an unlabelled bottle of pills in the bathroom. 

Sliding into the front seat of the Camaro, Derek couldn’t help but smirk at the teen’s impatient twitch that he could see in the corner of his eye. Shifting the car into gear, Derek reached across the hand-brake, fingers resting teasingly high on the younger male’s thigh. Rubbing the tips of his fingers against the inside of Stiles thigh, the older man bit back a chuckle at the guttery moan that the teen released at the teasing. Stopping at a red light, Derek wasted no time in shifting out of his seat, quickly pulling the teen into a heated kiss that left both of them groaning for more when the car behind them beeped impatiently, signally them that the lights had shifted. The older man couldn’t help but chuckle as Stiles muttered insults and threats at the driver behind them; Derek had learned a long time ago that the teen had serious passenger road rage.

 

Thankfully they were able to reach Derek’s house in a relatively short time, both of them jumping out of the Camaro in enthusiastic anticipation. The older man had barely unlocked the front door before Stiles jumped onto him, legs instantly locking around the teacher’s waist. Placing a supporting hand on the teen’s arse, Derek welcomed the kisses that the teen was littering onto his face; stepping over the threshold, quickly slamming the front door behind him, Derek dropped their bags from his shoulder, allowing him the use of his other hand to hold the teen up against him. Momentarily breaking away from the short kisses that the younger man was energetically pressing against the older man’s lips, Derek breathed into the small space between them, “I want to ask you this one more time; Are you sure?”

“Derek so help me god, if you don’t take me upstairs and fuck me into the mattress, I will honestly punch you for being a cock-blocking sourwolf.”

Pressing their saliva covered lips back together in response; Derek hitched Stiles up higher, as he began to carry the teen up the stairs. The teen’s legs tightened around him with every step they took, causing their denim-covered erections to rub against each-other more vigorously with every stair. Moaning around Stiles’ tongue, Derek knew that no matter what, he wasn’t going to last very long, and all he could do was blame how unbelievably sexy the teen was. Reaching the top of the stairs, Derek stepped easily over towards the bedroom, edging the door open wider with the toe of his boot; the older man was suddenly very grateful for all the hours he put into working out, as he was easily able to carry the teen.

 

Steadily walking over towards the bed, Derek slowly lowered them both onto the mattress, neither wanting to separate from their own closeness. Keeping their lips attached in a fiery kiss, the older man carefully arranged himself over the teen, not wanting to drop his entire weight on top of Stiles. His fingers now dipped into the base of the younger males t-shirt, now that he was no longer holding Stiles against his chest. Slowly dragging the material up towards the teen’s chest; Derek’s fingers casually ghosting over the pale skin on the younger man’s abdomen, before trailing the digits excruciatingly slowly up towards Stiles perk nipples. Teasing one hardened stub between his fingers, the older man broke the kiss, pressing short butterfly kisses down the teen’s chin and neck before locking them around the other nipple. Stiles moaned in response, arching up from the mattress and simultaneously bucking up into Derek; the teen’s moans increased at the jolt of pleasure that spread through him as he began to rub his hips against the figure above him, his hard cock rubbing at the course material of his jeans, and the pleasurable pressure that pressing against Derek’s body was giving him.  

“If you’re not careful, we won’t even make it to the sex part of this.” Derek whispered with a chuckle as he broke away from where his teeth and tongue were playing with the teen’s nipple.

“You’re the one that’s fucking teasing me… Der-” The older man squeezed the nipple that was still being toyed with by his fingers, making the teen’s eyes squeeze shut as the teachers name rolled off his tongue. Taking the moment to quickly remove their shirts whilst Stiles was distracted; Derek quickly pushed himself back forwards, recapturing the teen’s lips, sucking the bottom one in between his teeth. Stiles moaned, “Jesus Christ. Fuck!”

“And miss the foreplay? Nope, we’re not just jumping into this dear Red. I want you to remember this night for the rest of your life.” Derek breathed harshly into the teen’s ear, before being pulled by the back of his hair back into the kiss. Slipping a hand between their hot shirtless bodies, the older man dropped his head into the teen’s neck, leaving bites and kisses as he began toying with the waist of the teen’s jeans’; his hand occasionally ghosting over the belt buckle and down towards where Stiles hard member was leaving a distinct outline.

 

“Please Der… Derek. Please!” Stiles practically screamed as the older man squeezed the teen’s thickened member hard, white flooding the younger man’s vision as his head dropped back against the sheets. Arching off the mattress, Stiles felt his body shake as his first orgasm of the night ripped through him; collapsing back against the covers, the teen panted for breath as Derek kissed up his neck with a smug smirk. Lazily pulling the older man back in for a proper kiss, the younger man pouted at his teacher, “You could have at least took my fucking jeans off before I jizzed in them.”

“I’ll remember that next time,” Derek chuckled into another kiss. He knew that the teen would be ready to go in a few more minutes, blessing teenage hormones as he felt Stiles bite softly on his stubbled jawline. Kicking their shoes off in between slow kisses as they waited for the younger male to recover, it was Derek’s turn to moan loudly as he felt Stiles hand dip between their bodies, rapidly fighting single handed with the older man’s belt buckle. Feeling the teen pop the buttons on his jeans, Derek joined Stiles as they fought with each other’s trousers, kicking the fabric off of their hips, letting the denim pool around their thighs as the older man slowly rutted against the teen’s hipbone.

 

Pressing a long kiss against the teen’s reddened lips; Derek wrapped a hand around Stiles hip, effortlessly flipping the younger man over so that his front was pressed against the covers, trapped by the older man’s hard body. The loud moan and the way the teen raised his ass off the bed in submission, made Derek realize how much Stiles liked the manhandling. Locking that piece of information away for future reference, Derek kissed down the teen’s spine, reaching the dimples just above Stiles buttocks. Tonguing the two dimples momentarily, the older man moved lower, his fingers digging into the waist of the teen’s boxers and the jeans that lay forgotten on the teen’s thighs; dragging them down Stiles body in one swift movement, Derek watched as the teen turned his head slightly to watch as he dug his fingers into the waistline of his own underwear. Pulling the material down and letting them drop to the floor with his jeans, Derek jumped back onto the bed, straddling the teen’s hips, his hands massaging the younger man’s shoulders for a minute before reaching towards the bottle on the bedside table. The bottle of lube had sat proudly in the spot since the day Derek first fingered Stiles, the memory of watching his fingers pumping into the teen’s ass made his cock throb uncomfortably hard in anticipation.

Generously coating his fingers with the lubricant, Derek let the bottle fall onto the bed next to their bodies, as he brought the teen up onto his hands and knees as his fingers played teasingly with the rim; slowly rubbing the puckered edge, pressing softly against the hole, but not allowing a finger to breach it. “If you don’t hurt up and do it, I’m just gonna do it myself,” Stiles groaned, turning his head to glare at the older man behind him. Stiles groan quickly disappeared in place of a moan as Derek pushed a finger into the tight hole at the teen’s words. As Stiles pushed back against the digit, the older man just stared down in arousal as he watched the teen’s ass suck his finger in up to the knuckle. Moaning softly at the sight, Derek leaned down to press a soft kiss against Stiles shoulder as he slowly worked the single finger in and out of the teen’s body. Derek smiled softly into the teen’s skin as he felt the younger man’s body shake as he crooked his finger inside, the tip rubbing momentarily against Stiles’ prostate.

“Another.” Sucking a mark into Stiles shoulder at the teen’s word, Derek pressed a single kiss against the red mark before moving back to his original position on his knees behind the younger man. Applying another generous amount of lube onto his already slicked fingers, the older man frowned at the small damp spot where the open lube bottle had spilled slightly onto the bed; deciding that it didn’t really matter as the sheets would be washed tomorrow anyways, Derek slapped Stiles ass with his spare hand before adding a second finger alongside the first. The younger male’s back arched at the second intrusion, his arms shaking as the arousal that was once again spreading through his body began to make it difficult to support his upper body weight.  Slowly scissoring the teen open, Derek took his time before adding a third finger alongside; using all three to stretch Stiles open further. The older man knew that even with the preparation, there was still going to be a relative amount of pain when it came to opening the teen up with his own member, and that thought made him continue to stretch Stiles open until the younger male began to whine once more in impatience.

 

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Derek panted, finding it difficult to not just mount the teen then and there.

“Yes. God Derek I love you.”

“I know,” the older man whispered in response as he removed his fingers, watching in fascination as the teen’s ass gaped for a moment, before closing leaving only the weeping trail of lube. Slicking up his cock, Derek nearly came from the soft pressure of his hand ghosting over his erection; the lube mixing with the pre-cum that was already leaking from the tip. Positioning himself against the teen’s entrance, one hand spread out on either side of Stiles skinny hips, whilst the other remained wrapped around his own erection as he slowly guided himself inside the teen’s tight hole.  Derek couldn’t miss the sharp intake of breath as the head breached the teen’s hole, his three fingers were nothing compared to the width of his cock. “Do you want me to stop?” The older man asked as his hand on Stiles hips, gently rubbed soothing circles into the skin.

“No it’s fine. Just go slow.” Stiles whimpered, as he dropped down onto his forearms so that his head could drop onto the duvet.

 

“Just tell me if you want me to stop for a moment,” Derek replied, as he slowly began to push further in. Finally burying himself to the hilt inside the teen, the older man let his hand fall onto the teen’s hip, gently holding them both in place as he tried to stop himself from thrusting wildly into the teen’s tight wet entrance. Staying still inside the teen, Derek leant over, draping himself over the top of the teen’s body as Stiles head turned slightly allowing the older man to kiss the tears away from the younger man’s face.

“Move.” Stiles breathed into Derek’s ear, the older man nodding as he moved back pressing a final kiss to a dried up tear track. Squeezing the teen’s hips slightly, the older man gently began to move out, letting only the head of his cock stay inside the younger man before slowly thrusting back inside. Derek’s pace slowly began to quicken, reassured when Stiles threw his head back moaning loudly; moaning along with him, Derek readjusted his position to aim at the same spot again, knowing that he had thrust against the teen’s prostate and he wanted to continue hitting the pleasurable spot. Leaning forwards, the older man recaptured Stiles mouth in a messy kiss that was a mixture of moans, tongue and teeth.

Breaking away from the kiss, Derek lost himself in the pleasured sounds that were spilling from the teen’s open mouth, only realizing how fast he was thrusting into Stiles when he noticed just how loudly the headboard was smashing into the wall. Stopping fully inside the teen, the older man slowly pulled himself half-out of the younger man’s entrance, before slamming back inside with a harsh speed that had Stiles screaming his name in ecstasy.

“Don’t Stop!  So close. Dereeek!” Stiles continued to scream, his arms finally giving out, sending him crashing forwards leaving only his ass in the air; Derek’s firm hands were the only things keeping that from crashing to the mattress.  Feeling his own orgasm building quickly, Derek wrapped one of his hands around the teen’s leaking erection; pumping it in time with his thrusts. It only took a few more thrusts before Stiles was screaming Derek’s name as the orgasm rushed through the teen; cum splattering his chest and covering the older man’s hand. Derek only last a thrust more as Stiles wall’s tightened around his erection, forcing him over the edge with the teen. Moaning the younger man’s name, Derek felt his vision go with the intensity of his orgasm, his cum painting the teen’s insides in long hot spurts. Only just stopping himself from falling down with his full weight on top of Stiles, Derek slowly dropped down half on top of the teen, his member still buried inside.

 

They waited a moment, before Derek slowly pulled out of the teen, Stiles wincing at the pain that ran up his spine at the movement. Ignoring it slightly, Stiles rolled over with Derek, so that he was lying with his head against the older man’s sweat covered chest.  As their sharp breaths slowly began to soften, Stiles shifted Derek’s hand so that it was pressed against his chest directly over his heart, in the exact same position that Stiles had his own hand on the older man’s chest. Using the hand on Derek’s chest to push himself up slightly, Stiles pressed a soft kiss against the older man’s lips before whispering softly; “We match.”

Frowning for a moment, Derek quickly realised what the teen was on about. Feeling the way that Stiles heart beat faster than it usually did, the older man realized that it felt so similar to the way his own heart beat normally. Smiling up at Stiles, Derek pressed a chaste kiss against the teen’s lips once more, and another to the teen’s forehead when Stiles moved back to resting his head over the older man’s beating heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, but you know it was cosplay and conventions and alcohol. Literally alcohol teapots, best bar ever. I stole the teapot too, it got called the Chekov teapot, cause it had shots of vodka and alcopop in it; vodka teapot, russian teapot, CHEKOV TEAPOT. This basically explained that weekend- Drunk Star Trek Nerding Weekend. It was more Chekov nerding but still. 
> 
> Basically sorry for the delay (and that moment of Chekov Nerding, he's adorable okay...), and after over 60,000 words here is your sex. Enjoy.


	46. Fear and Shock

Waking up the morning after, Derek couldn’t help but smile at the glow that filled the teen; lighting Stiles up even when the teen grouched about the pain in his lower back. Pressing a morning kiss against the teen’s lips the moment he saw Stiles eyelids begin to flutter open, Derek did all he could to express how much he cared for the teen. They walked around the older man’s house as if they were attached at the hip; Derek’s hand an ever comforting pressure at the base of the teen’s spine where most of the pain was congregating, even when Stiles leant against the kitchen counter as the art teacher prepared them breakfast. The older man couldn’t help but to touch Stiles, whether it was a simple brush of their fingers when they passed each other things at the breakfast table, or whether it was wrapping his muscular arms around the teen’s tiny waist when they shared a shower.

 

Derek found it difficult to tone the constant touches down when they packed up everything they would need from the Hale house. When Stiles expressed his embarrassment about if his dad figured out what they did, the teen quickly pressed a soft kiss to Derek’s lips before stating, “I’m not embarrassed about what we did dude, so don’t pout. It would just be so fricking embarrassing if my dad decided to spend all of Christmas giving us safe sex talks.”

Chuckling softly in response, the pout that had graced his face moments ago quickly disappeared as Derek followed Stiles out of the house, locking the door behind them. Stalking towards the car, the older man pulled the teen against his chest as he leant back against the Camaro, “What more embarrassing than him catching you giving me a blow job in your jeep that time.”

“YES!” Stiles yelped his face reddening at the memory, “And that is why we started going off the beaten track for fun times in cars, and you know, not parking on the side of the bloody road.” Smirking up at his art teacher before jumping out of the older man’s hold, Stiles limped slightly towards the passenger side.

Falling into the leather seat, the teen frowned slightly as he waited for Derek to join him inside the car; patiently waiting until the older man was about to pull his seat belt across his chest, Stiles asked, “Did you pick up your tablets from the bathroom?” Judging from the way the art teacher mouthed ‘Shit’ under his breath, before quickly undoing the belt and jumping out of the car, Stiles could only presume that Derek had in deed forgotten to pick up the unlabelled bottle. Smirking to himself, the teen was sure that the older man would forget his own head if it wasn’t attached; the amount of times Derek had forgotten to bring his tablets with him was in the dozens. Stiles still didn’t know what was in the small bottles, only knowing that the older man began to panic profusely whenever he forgot to pack them. The teen had asked once what they were, when the pair were stood at the bathroom sink, pill bottles resting in both their hands as they took their dosage; Stiles had only received a kiss to the forehead and a muttered ‘It doesn’t matter’ in response. As Derek reappeared from within the house, bottle in his hand as he locked the front door before trudging back to the Camaro, Stiles couldn’t help but grin like a fool in love at the man. When Derek threw the tablets into the shoulder bag at the teen’s feet, Stiles leant across the gears to press a single kiss to the older man’s pout.

* * *

 

Christmas at the Stilinski house passed by in a blur of food, presents and TV; with Stiles forcing Derek to do practically everything for him for the first couple of days quietly complaining about the way it hurt to walk. After the pain slowly subsided in the younger man, the older man was suddenly left with an extremely horny teenager. It took nearly all of Derek’s control to convince Stiles that having sex whilst the sheriff was just down the hall was not the best of ideas; when the teen finally agreed that it wasn’t the best of ideas, Stiles quickly decided that they’ll just have to wait till his father was out of the house.

It was Christmas Day after exchanging presents, which included a selection of novelty t-shirts and comic memorabilia for the teen, and art supplies and a novelty black wolf hat for Derek. The sheriff just rolled his eyes affectionately at the couple, as Derek and Stiles play-fought amongst the wrapping paper that was scattered around the living room floor; Derek let the teenager win the mini-wrestling match, finally allowing Stiles to put the wolf hat on his head. After stuffing themselves on dinner and desert, Stiles couldn’t help the giant grin on his face as his father left on the night shift at the police station. Any other year, the teenager would be mopey at his dad going to work on Christmas, throwing on an old Disney movie or a video game; this year, Stiles waved at his father as he pulled out of the driver, before grabbing Derek by the neck of his shirt. Dragging the older man upstairs, the pair had sex for a second time; Stiles laid on his back, enjoying the constant soft kisses as Derek slowly made love to him.

* * *

 

Neither of them were happy about returning back to school when the first week in January rolled around, already missing the intimacy they shared without the fear of anyone finding out and ratting them out. Stiles had seen his friends a few times over the Christmas break, but that didn’t stop the small amount of excitement that came with being able to hang out with Erica and everyone every day again.

The first week dragged by slowly in Derek’s mind, the older man wanting nothing more than being able to spend all day wrapped up in blankets with Stiles on the sofa watching films. He was halfway through one of his lessons on Friday when he noticed an email in his inbox with the little red exclamation mark, indicating that it was important. Sighing as he checked that none of his students were sticking their hands in the air for help, Derek quickly opened the email, sighing once more when he saw that a parent had arranged a meeting with him. The teacher bit back a growl when he noticed that the email made no mention of the students name or the parents name, meaning it was going to be difficult to figure out what the parent was coming in for; Derek just suspected that the parent wanted to comment on their kids grade, meaning it was probably a student whom he’d failed. Sending a quick text to Stiles, Derek smiled at the quick response he got.

**Got a parent coming in, won’t be able to take you for a milkshake straight away after school. Sorry Red XX- D**

**Awwe yiu evil sourwolf :p dont worry bout it. Its fine I can wait :p xxx- S**

**Naughty, you shouldn’t be texting in lesson :P XX- D**

A frown crossed the older man’s face when Stiles didn’t reply to his message immediately; scowling at the time on his phone, Derek assumed it was because the teen had gotten caught texting in lesson. As soon as the bell rung signally the end of the lesson, Derek felt his phone buzz in his hand.

**Piss off assehoke. U shoudnt be textkng when ur meant to be tesching. Sorry for takng ages to greply Asshole Harris caught me textng. Got a detention after school :( XX- S**

Biting back a chuckle, Derek resisted the urge to text the teen back berating him on his choice of lessons to text in; it was common knowledge that the Chemistry teacher despised Stiles. The amount of times Derek had sat in the staff room during lunch break listening to Harris bitching about the teen, made the art teacher clench his fists to resist the urge to punch the smaller man.

**That sucks Red, he’s an arsehole. You’re lucky he didn’t try to give you more than just a detention, now no texting back till later. I don’t want to get you into any more trouble babe XXX- D**

**I lke babe. Just saing XXX – S**

Smiling softly at the texts, Derek quickly dropped his phone onto his desk as soon as the crowd of students for the next lesson began pouring into the studio. As usual the hours until the final bell dragged, leaving the older man wanting nothing more than to go home and curl up on the sofa with Stiles in his arms.  Watching the students practically running out of the studio, Derek groaned as he slumped in his desk chair, he still had to meet the parent that had arranged a meeting with him.  Hearing a short knock at the studio door, Derek turned toward the entrance of the classroom just as the door was slowly pushed open.

“I was informed that you wanted to talk to me about Stiles.”

The art teachers eyes widened in fear as he saw the Sheriff stepping through the door, supporting an identical look of absolute shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, Sheriff's found out that Derek works at the school. Awkward
> 
> I've been writing this for ages, but I was honestly just banging my head against the laptop, as I wanted to just skip all the detail and jump into the angst.
> 
> Enjoy


	47. Everything Ends

“Ah Shit,” the sheriff muttered to himself as he stormed into the art studio, slamming the door behind him before stalking towards the desk where Derek was sat at. Smashing his fists on the wooden surface of the desk, making the art teacher flinch in his seat, “I thought I told you no more fucking secrets Derek!”

Derek pushed himself out of his seat, mimicking Steve’s stature as he rested his closed fists on the desk as he glared at the older Stilinski, “Oh yeh? What was I supposed to say just after you found out my age; I’m in a relationship with your son, by the way did I mention that I was his fucking art teacher.” Derek couldn’t help but scowl defensively when the sheriff’s glare deepened, growing darker as the older man’s anger increased. He knew that his worst case scenario had just occurred; no matter how well the sheriff had taken his age, it was morally wrong for a teacher to be in any form of relationship with a student. It didn’t help Derek’s case that Stiles was underage either.

“You shouldn’t be in a relationship with him in the first place!”

Derek recoiled slightly as the brute force of the sheriff’s words hit him, lowering his voice so that is was barely audible, “You once said that I made Stiles happy.”  Thoughts suddenly swam through the teacher’s head as his mind tried to connect the dots; the words Steve had said when the older Stilinski had first walked into the room stuck in Derek’s mind. ‘I was informed that you wanted to talk to me about Stiles.’  In the same quiet voice, the teacher inquired looking down at the scratch marks on his desk in defeat,” Why are you even here Stev… Sheriff Stilinski.”

“Why am I even here? I got a phone call at the station telling me that Stiles art teacher wanted to talk to me.” Derek frowned at the Sheriffs comment in a forced calmness; the email that he had received when he was first informed that there was a meeting flashed through his mind, specifically the words that a parent had arranged the meeting. Both sides thought that the other had been the one to organize this awkward encounter. Rage spread through the art teacher’s body when he realized that there was really only one person in the school who could have organized this, and only one person who would want to out Stiles and Derek’s relationship to the older Stilinski. Peter.

 

“Sheriff, I think I can explain…” Derek begun, before being cut off as the older Stilinski held a hand up, silently informing the art teacher to stop talking.

“Just stop.” The art teacher nodded at the sheriff, feeling dread filling his chest as he began to imagine not being allowed to see Stiles; having to make their relationship secret, or ending it fully. “Tell me where the hell my son is.”

“Harris’s classroom.”

“Get up and follow me.” The sheriff snapped, watching with crossed arms as Derek grabbed things throwing them haphazardly into his work bag. The older Stilinski felt angry and betrayed at the secret that his son and the man that he had considered to be like a son had kept from him.  Derek obliging followed the Sheriff out of the room, letting the door slammed close behind him; he didn’t bother locking it, one of the janitors would come and do that when they were locking up.

 

The art teacher tried not to flinch as he felt the Sheriff’s hand wrap around the top of his arm, half guiding half pushing Derek towards the chemistry labs. It didn’t take them long to reach the closed classroom door that they both knew too well; Derek from being a student at the school only a few years previously, and the sheriff from the numerous amount of times Harris had called him in about Stiles. Steve didn’t bother knocking on the door; instead he just let his harsh grip on Derek’s arm go before pushing the door open and standing in the doorway.

Stiles looked up from the desk he was sat at when he heard the soft squeak of the door hinges, eyes widening in confusion as he saw his father standing in the doorway, his anger radiating through the room. “Get your things and get out here now.” Stiles instantly knew as he quickly threw his notebook into his back that his father’s tone meant that some form of shit had hit the fan; that didn’t stop the hyperactive teen sending a discreet smug smirk at Harris as he walked past the chemistry teacher’s desk. The older Stilinski stepped to the side as Stiles reached the door; the teen frowned at his father’s behaviour as he walked into the corridor, before stopping dead in his tracks as he saw Derek standing just to the side of the door; the art teacher had been stood just out of sight of the doorway, so that Harris wouldn’t be able to see him. Stiles instantly realized the reason behind his father’s anger, as he looked up into the kicked puppy expression that was covering Derek’s face.

“Der-”

“Both of you get to your cars and meet at the house. I don’t think this is the kind of discussion we should be having in the middle of the school corridor.” Steve Stilinski snapped at the pair, instantly making Stiles stop talking mid word. The sheriff couldn’t help but glare at the art teacher and his own son for a moment, before storming down the hallway towards one of the exits to the car park.

 

Derek and Stiles were left staring after him, shock on both of their faces; both wanted to reach out and comfort the other, but both knew that they couldn’t. Derek risked it, reaching out to softly squeeze the teen’s shoulder, before letting his arm drop back to his side as if the touch never happened. Walking down the hallway and through the door towards the car park, Stiles couldn’t help the sharp breaths that he took in attempts to slowly calm himself. Reaching the space where their cars were parked side by side, Derek looked around hesitantly, eyeing the windows of the school before quickly wrapping his arms around the teen. Stiles melted into the embrace, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill as he mumbled into the art teacher’s chest, “No matter what happens Derek … I love you.”

Derek nodded as he stepped out of the hug, wanting nothing more than to kiss the teen in front of him in fear that if he didn’t do it then, he wouldn’t ever be able to again. Fear was coursing through his veins, as he compromised with his head, pressing a single kiss against Stiles forehead, ignoring the tears in his eyes.  “I’ll meet you there.” Without waiting for the younger male to reply with more than a simple nod of the head, Derek jumped into the Camaro, pushing it into drive as he felt the first tear slowly fall down his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this chapter, i think it's pure crap but I was honestly just stuck on it. Also the chapter title is just a hint at the next chapter, and no Derek and Stiles won't end there relationship; Don't worry it's not hinting at that.
> 
> I will also warn in advance that my updates will be slow from now on, I start back at uni this week and all the workload. 
> 
> Don't worry if I take ages updating, I love this fic too much to ever abandon it. Ever.


	48. Explanation for Previous Chapter

To quickly explain why the sheriff is acting the way he is, I firstly need to point out that no parent is going to be overly happy that there child is going out and probably having a sexual relationship with someone 7 years older. Secondly my main point is that Derek is a teacher! It is a illegal for people in authroity such as teachers, doctors to have sexual relarionships with teenagers in there care. That is why the sheriff is pissed. That and the fact that he told them both no more secrets when he found out Derek was 23.

The sheriff is thinking in both his work mind and his family mind, he is literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. He should acctually have Derek arrested, fired and put in jail; but he has also come to see Derek as part of the family. So to conclude my mini rant the sheriff is so pissed and acting like he is ready to kill cause he is half mad at them and half stuck in inner turmoil as what he should do; follow the law like he should, or let them be.


	49. Whiskey Glass

Pulling up behind the police cruiser already parked in the Sheriff’s usual parking space outside the house, Derek squeezed his eyes shut as he took in a deep breath in an attempt to calm the pool of dread that was sitting in his stomach. He waited in his car, despite seeing the occasional twitch of the living room curtains, informing him that Steve was aware of his arrival, and was waiting for him to come in. Derek wouldn’t though; he wanted Stiles to walk in beside him, scared of the words that the older Stilinski could be waiting to attack him. The art teacher didn’t know how long he sat in the Camaro, waiting for the familiar noise of the teen’s beat up old jeep to pull to a shaky stop just behind him. It felt like he had been waiting for hours, but a mere glance at the clock in the dashboard informed Derek that he had only been sat there for under five minutes. Exhaling as he stepped out of the car, wanting nothing more than to jump back inside and drive away, Derek slowed walked towards Stiles, instantly reaching out for the younger man’s hand as soon as they were close enough. Hands held tightly, Derek sheepishly returned the half-smile Stiles gave him as they made their way towards the front door.

 

They found themselves instantly greeted to the Sheriff’s commanding voice, instructing them to come into the living room. Derek felt Stiles squeeze his hand reassuringly as the teen led them down the hall and into the room where the Sheriff sat waiting for them. Steve was sat in the armchair facing the doorway to the room, frowning over the rim of a whiskey glass that was practically empty already. Stiles winced slightly as he watched his father reach for the bottle of Jack sat on the table directly next to the chair; too many memories of his father’s drinking habits when his mum first passed away, were still raw emotion as he watched his dad pour a generous amount into the glass. Derek moved his hand to squeeze comfortingly at the back of the teen’s neck; both of them stood waiting and watching, trying to gage the Sheriffs reactions.

Taking a large gulp of the amber liquid, the older Stilinski sighed as he let the glass rest on his knee as he glared up at the two males in front of him, “I told you both. No more lies.”

“Dad-”

“Stiles, I was only just able to accept the fact Derek is seven years older than you! And now I find out he’s your fucking teacher on top of that!”

“Dad-”

“Stiles, It is morally, legally, socially unacceptable. He is in a position of authority; it’s a breach of trust. Its statutory ra- ”

“Will you stop fucking interrupting me Dad!” Stiles voice echoed through the room stopping his father from continuing with the word that the teen knew was coming next; Derek’s soothing hand at the back of his neck, doing nothing to calm down the agitation that was stirring inside the teen. A short silence filled the room, the teen taking his father’s lack of a response as an indicating for him to continue with his original comment, “How were we meant to tell you Dad. Yeh I know all this bull- sorry, all this crap- could have been handled better; by all of us Dad, so stop rolling your eyes. You’re the one who dragged me out of detention, cause you flipped your shit.”

“What Stiles is trying to say sir; even if we told you the truth, instead of you finding out accidently, it would have still led to-”

“Shit equals fan.” Stiles interrupted Derek, ignoring his dad’s frown at the swearing.

 

Steve sat silent for a moment, trying to sort through the thoughts in his head to find the right words to say. Sighing, the anger in his voice disappeared as he drank from his glass, draining it once more, “Sit down. Both of you.” The older Stilinski watched as his son dropped into the sofa in a stereotypical display of a teenage hissy-fit; arms thrown across his chest as he pouted at the wall behind Steve’s head. Derek on the other hand, moved almost cautiously; clearly scared that if he put a foot in the wrong place, something bad would happen and the anger that had been in the room would escalate once again. Steve couldn’t help but watch the almost pained expression on both males faces as Derek sat tentatively on the edge of his seat, sitting as far away as possible to Stiles as he could on the sofa.

Pushing himself up out of his chair, Steve felt the two pairs of eyes on him as he turned towards the drinks cabinet, grabbing another glass tumbler. Filling his own glass with a generous amount of the whiskey, copying the action with the second glass; the older Stilinski watched both Derek’s and Stiles eyes widen as he handed fresh glass over to the teacher. Dropping back into his seat, the Sheriff stated bluntly, “I’m not gonna lie; I am not fucking happy about this situation. But know that I care about you Stiles, and I’m not going to hurt you by banning you from seeing Derek. And Derek, shit you’re like a son to me.” Steve brought his hand up to rub absent-mindedly at his jaw as he looked at Derek’s face, the man’s emotions so clearly hidden and controlled under the mask that must have took years to perfect.

 

“Does this mean, you’re gonna stop freaking the shit out now dad?” Stiles asked cautiously, already preparing to slide over to Derek’s side as soon as he hears his father’s hidden consent.

“What I’m saying is, I’m not happy, but I’m not gonna stop you.” No sooner were the words out of the Sheriff’s mouth, Stiles was launching himself into Derek’s lap; the art teachers arms instinctively wrapping themselves around the teens skinny waist. Steve averted his eyes, allowing the pair a brief moment of relief, before his voice momentarily pulled them out of their joy, “Seriously though, I don’t want to get you arrested for Statutory Rape Derek, if you two are doing anything like that; I don’t want to know, don’t even hint about it please.”

Steve watched as his teenage son turned in Derek’s embrace to smirk mischievously; the smile doing nothing to hide the embarrassment in his son’s face as Stiles asked, “Aww, what no innuendo’s?”

“No.”

“But that’s no fun. This is kinda hypocritical considering you gave me condoms Dad… oh god does this mean you want the condoms back, cause you might not get all of them back…” The hyperactive teen began rambling. Derek threw his head back against the back of the couch, his laugh catching in his throat as Steve threw a cushion at his son effectively cutting off the teen’s ramble. Stiles stared down in shock at the pillow that had hit him in his face, before dropping into his lap, glaring up at his father as the older Stilinski made to leave the room.

“THAT ABUSE YOU KNOW! You can’t throw cushions at your kid!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the complete lack of an update for nearly a month, It's tempting to blame life, uni and shit, but in all honesty I am a lazy bastard... There was a tad of writers block, and just having to force myself to get over a chapter so I can continue with my plot.
> 
> Not much Derek talk this chapter, but whats a Teen Wolf fanfic without a slightly emotionally constipated Derek. But also lets face it, in an argument with Stiles on your side, you probably don't need to speak much cause lets face it, Stiles could probably talk himself out of most arguments, or into a fight depending on the situation.
> 
> I will try to update more often, but even if I don't update for a while; this fic is my baby, I'm not gonna abandon it.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Caught](https://archiveofourown.org/works/870976) by [alixinsanity (orphan_account)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/alixinsanity)




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